The Obsession
by peagoose6
Summary: It was intended as a joke, but results in a madman focusing his attentions on Reid. Reid-centric team story. Dark. Violence, future chapters may be M. Reid whumpage. No Pairings. Will usually be updated on weekends.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Penelope Garcia flew down the hallway at Quantico in a complete panic. She had just got off of the phone with her boyfriend Kevin, and what he had told her, what she had just seen on her computer with her own eyes, resulted in wings on her feet and a massive lump in her throat. 'We have really done it this time' she thought as she finally reached the conference room. Opening the door, she hesitated for a moment before gathering her courage and entering.

Four pairs of eyes turned towards her. Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss and Jennifer Jareau gave her questioning looks, as she tried to catch her breath from her run, while David Rossi, ever the gentlemen, stood up to offer her his seat which was closest to where she stood. Garcia could tell by their expressions that none of them knew what had happened yet; she didn't know if this was a good thing or not. It meant she would have to be the bearer of the terrible news, which was a role she was definitely not suited for. Before she had recovered her breathing enough to speak, to explain the disaster that had happened, Aaron Hotchner walked into the room. Garcia could tell instantly, by the stiff way he held his body and the thunderous look on his face, that Hotch definitely knew the bad news. "Oh God" she whispered, as he turned his dark eyes on her.

"Garcia?" Hotch uttered only the one word, as a question; but the expression on his face was so grim and foreboding, no other words were necessary. Garcia swallowed, knowing she was about to get herself and the three others in serious trouble; her only consolation was that Reid wasn't here to hear it, and maybe, possibly he would never find out. That improbability, nonetheless, propped up her confidence a bit, allowing her to speak.

"Hotch, I know it looks bad, really bad. But it wasn't supposed to happen. It really wasn't. We would never do anything like that to Reid, never, never in a million years." Garcia's face got redder as she spoke, as Hotch's silently stared at her. Rossi, who was totally clueless as to what was happening, looked at her with his eyebrows raised in question. The other three, who had some idea of what Garcia was talking about, glanced at her and each other, each feeling a little ashamed. But even they weren't aware of just how bad it actually was.

"It was just a joke, you know. Last week, when we stayed the extra night in Atlanta." Garcia threw appealing glances at the others, but no one was willing to jump into Hotch's hot seat; all three knew Hotch would soon be tearing strips off of their backs over the trick they had played on Reid. 'Where is Reid anyways' Morgan pondered, his mind not wanting to listen to Garcia explain what happened; it had seemed funny at the time, like most things do when the participants are drunk, but in the cold light of day it just would just sound mean and nasty.

"What exactly happened?" Hotch, his voice even, emotionless, stared at each agent in turn; the only one looking totally in the dark was Rossi, as he had expected, but the others all averted their eyes, their guilt written clearly in their faces.

"Well, sir, you probably remember that we all decided to go for a drink, to relax after we caught the Unsub." Garcia once again looked at the others, hoping someone would help her out, but again, they all kept quiet. Turning back to Hotch she continued, "And, then after you and Rossi left, we, uh, we decided to play a drinking game…" Garcia's voice faded away, as she saw the expression on Hotch's face. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but her vocal cords were paralyzed with regret, so she stayed silent.

Morgan finally took pity on her, swallowed his own regret over the incident, and spoke up, "Hotch, man, it was only a joke. No one got hurt, and as long as Reid never finds out, no harm no foul. We'll just get rid of it and no one will ever find out it happened." Morgan's optimism seeped out of his voice as he glanced between Garcia and Hotch. Feeling like a huge stone had settled on his chest, Morgan once again wondered where Reid was. He couldn't let his mind touch down on the thought that his 'baby brother' had found out what had happened; Morgan knew Reid would be beyond humiliated.

"Would someone like to tell me what we have going on here?" Rossi, who had not been involved, was still totally in the dark about what this 'terrible' thing was they had obviously done to Reid, and he was getting a bit pissed off. He too, cared for the young, insecure genius, and Rossi was only too aware of what can happen when a group starts playing drinking games. Rossi hoped that whatever had happened could be put right with some apologetic groveling from the team, and whatever Hotch had in mind. Rossi had known Hotch for years, so knew he would have thought of some suitable chastisement for them.

Prentiss, deciding she should speak up, as Garcia was still mute, spoke up next, "It was a joke Hotch. We all drank too much, spoke a little too freely about certain subjects, and made a very bad decision. Reid will understand if he finds out. After all, only the team knows about it."

Garcia finally found her voice again. Averting her face from Hotch's extremely angry eyes, she spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper, "Reid does know." She swallowed hard, tears of shame starting to run down her cheeks, "And, others know too."

"Know what?" Rossi questioned, his voice slightly angry.

JJ was holding her hands to her eyes, trying to stem the tears that had surfaced. Morgan's face looked like thunder, as he slammed his fist onto the table, angry with himself for being involved in what happened. Prentiss started to speak, but one look at Hotch and she immediately changed her mind, her face flaming up tomato red.

"Well, Dave, it seems this trio of FBI agents, spent the evening getting themselves and their colleague, their vulnerable, insecure colleague drunk" Hotch's voice rose to emphasis the words vulnerable and insecure, causing Prentiss, Morgan, JJ and Garcia to shrink a little in their seats. "Then, it appears, they had the wonderful idea of filming this colleague as he went to bed." Rossi had an extremely bad feeling about where this was going, and looked at the others in utter surprise that they had done this to Reid, of all people.

"Yes, we did it. But we were all drunk, we didn't do it with malice." Morgan spoke up, his anger at himself coming through in his tone of voice. Turning towards Rossi he continued, "We had spent the evening talking about our sexual adventures when we were younger. Reid didn't contribute, obviously, since he went to college before puberty, but he was laughing along with us. So, we decided to use Garcia's flip phone to record Reid going to bed, hoping he would be thinking about the stories from earlier and would be horny enough to, you know, take care of himself." Even as he described the facts to Rossi in a flat, emotionless voice, Morgan felt his heart squeeze with shame and regret.

"And Reid did what you hoped he would." Rossi's voice too was flat, even though he felt like tearing into them. Rossi knew in his younger days he had done some pretty stupid things as well, so tried to keep his demeanor neutral.

Morgan decided he might as well continue and put it all out there on the table, he knew they were all in serious trouble, especially if Reid had indeed found out. "So, afterwards, we recorded stuff over it, like commentary…" Morgan's voice suddenly cut off as he vaguely remembered some of the things he and the others had said. He could almost feel tears come into his own eyes as he pictured Reid seeing and hearing the video they made while drunk. "But it was just a joke, no one was ever supposed to see it. How did Reid see it?"

Garcia tried to stifle a sob, and all eyes turned once again to her. "Kevin. He was downloading our vacation video onto his laptop, which was supposed to be the only thing recorded on the phone, and unknowingly downloaded Reid's video." Garcia stopped to wipe her cheeks again.

"Well, why did he show it to Reid?" Rossi asked. "He didn't." Garcia's voice was small and quiet, as the true enormity of what had happened seemed to squash her down. "He was using his laptop at the coffee shop yesterday, and it got hacked." Rossi took a moment to absorb this statement, and then raised his eyebrows at Garcia, willing her to continue. But Garcia had reached her limit, she covered her face with her hands and shook her head.

Hotch, his voice like ice, finished the explanation, "It seems that whoever hacked Kevin's computer decided to share his or her discovery, so has posted the video, with drunken commentary intact, on YouTube. And now a video of Reid masturbating..." Hotch didn't feel the need to use a 'nicer' word just to spare their feelings, "...along with some disgusting commentary by his trusted colleagues, is making the rounds on the Internet."

Morgan, Prentiss and JJ's jaws dropped at this last revelation. They had not known about the video getting on the Internet. The silence in the room was oppressive, like the air was pressing against everyone's chest. Only Garcia and JJ's sobs could be heard. Rossi could understand why Hotch looked ready to throttle the whole group. He felt absolutely terrible for Reid; imagine finding out you had a video, shot without your knowledge, of yourself involved in one of the most private acts, available for everyone to see. Rossi actually shuddered at the thought.

But Hotch wasn't finished. "Each of you can well imagine how Reid felt this morning, when he found out." Hotch let that thought sink into their minds for a minute, then continued in a tight, terrible voice, "When he came to my office earlier he was an emotional wreck."

Morgan could barely speak, the tears were thick in his throat at the thought of what Reid must be going through, "Where is he now?"

Hotch scanned each face before he sighed, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, "I don't know. Reid came into my office this morning to hand in his gun and credentials. He's left the Bureau."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Derek Danger opened his eyes to a new day. As he had done every day since he'd legally changed his name at 18 years old, he whispered his chosen name out loud, "Derek Danger." After all of these years, nearly 30 now, he still loved the sound of that name; whispering it every morning, still made his whole body tingle. Derek had absolutely hated his birth name, just like he had absolutely hated his birth parents. Luckily for him, they had met with an unfortunate 'accident' when he was 16, so he had been able to live his life as he chose. Which he still did, in the same house he was born in; a small bungalow with a custom made basement. Designed and built for his 'company'. Though it had been nearly a month since he had had a 'guest', a 'boyfriend' in fact, as all of his guests were. Derek felt a wave of displeasure wash over him as he recalled his last 'boyfriend'. Derek had had such high hopes for him, he had seemed perfect; but just like all the others he had proved inadequate. Derek stretched as he got out of bed. Today he felt lucky. Today he just knew he was going to find 'the One', Mr. Perfect.

Derek had followed the same morning routine every day since he was 16. As a child he had been diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but Derek had never believed that. He was just meticulous with his habits, he liked things done a certain way, at a certain time, and if he got 'upset' when these routines were changed, well, that was just a normal human reaction. Derek made his way to the bathroom, did his business, brushed his teeth, then stepped into the shower. As he soaped up, he admired his body, as he did every morning. He was a tall man, 6'3, and well built; he exercised every day for an hour to maintain his physique, also lifting weights. He also completely shaved his body, every two days; he felt it showed his muscles to a better advantage. He also insisted his 'boyfriends' do the same; for although he liked them on the thin side, he loved the feel of smooth skin under his hands. Sometimes the troubles with the 'boyfriends' started at this stage; some of them just could not understand why he insisted they shave, though they all did eventually, with the proper persuasion. Those 'relationships' usually never lasted very long, those men always proved inadequate very quickly. Derek rinsed off, rubbed his body vigorously with a rough cotton towel and made his way into the kitchen.

Again, Derek's routine never wavered. Oatmeal, coffee, banana. Always the same food eaten in the same order at the same time. Dishes were immediately washed, dried and put away. Then it was time to log into work. Over the years, Derek had held many jobs, he was a very quick learner, as well as a hard worker, so had managed to gain experience in a variety of fields. Even during the various recessions he had lived through, Derek always managed to maintain a very good income. He had held his current job for over five years now, and it suited him down to the ground. It was a computer based position, which meant he could work from home, and set his own hours as long as it totalled forty hours a week. It was absolutely perfect for him, especially when he was entertaining a 'guest.' Today he intended to log 12 straight hours; he just had a gut feeling that he was going to find a new 'boyfriend' tonight, and he wanted to have some free time in the next few days to welcome 'Mr. Right' into his home.

Derek was unable to log into the Internet until quite late that evening. He had had to stop for lunch and supper of course, noon and 6:00pm on the dot. And he had actually forgotten it was Monday, which was grocery day, so he'd taken an hour to do that, plus five minutes of punching himself in the stomach for forgetting what day it was. Finally he was able to start his search. The Internet had been the best invention ever for Derek. Before, he would have to go out to the clubs and bars to find suitable 'boyfriends.' It had been very difficult and time-consuming due to Derek's stringent requirements. But since the Internet had come along, Derek could scroll through hundreds of potential men in one sitting. For the last three years he'd been having great success on YouTube. It was astonishing what people would post onto the site, letting tens of thousands of people around the world see. He had found his last 30 boyfriends using it, he was able to chose people from all over the country; it was amazing how easy it was to convince people to come to Washington to meet him. Most times it was also easier when the 'relationship' ended if his 'boyfriend' had been from out of state. But it was not a criteria, so Derek began his search tonight with a completely open mind.

Derek had been scrolling through YouTube for nearly two hours, watching countless videos, compiling a short list of prospects. Each man had some of the qualities he looked for, but not all. Derek intended to search for two days; if he couldn't find 'the One', then he would try some of the others from the list. It had been over three weeks since his last 'boyfriend' and he was beginning to get antsy. Derek needed an outlet for his pleasures, if he went too long between 'guests' it would start to effect his work, his routine. Derek came to an offering that looked like it might be promising. It had only been posted late last night, but already had over five hundred hits. Derek read the first ten comments, as he always did before committing to watch a video and was very impressed with what he saw. Each comment was positive, which was very rare. In fact each comment was absolutely glowing in their appraisal of the man in the video. Derek gleaned from them that this was taken as a hidden video, there was commentary from people obviously drunk which enhanced its appeal, and the participant was gorgeous if you liked them slender, which Derek definitely did. Derek could feel his stomach flip, his body tingling slightly, which were both very good omens. Maybe this would be 'the One', his new 'boyfriend.' Derek felt a bit lightheaded with anticipation, hoping against hope the comments he'd read had not been exaggerations.

Derek moved his cursor over the arrow on the screen, which only showed the corner of a table. Then he pressed the left button on his mouse, watched a shaky camera move up the room, and stop when it reached the back of a slim man, obviously unbuttoning his shirt. Moments later the man turned around and Derek's jaw fell, stunned, as he gazed at an absolute Vision.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE: Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews, they are all very much appreciated.**

**Chapter 3**

The team slowly left the conference room, everyone shocked and extremely upset. No one could believe, wanted to believe that what had started off as a joke had resulted in their most vulnerable team member, not only exposed in the most extreme way to literally the whole world, but that it had also led to him leaving his job, his friends, his 'life'. They all knew that Reid felt most comfortable at work, amoung his close friends, and now they had taken that security away from him. It was almost too much for them to take in; each member was wracked with guilt.

JJ went silently into her office, closed the door, and sobbed into her hands. Reid was one of her best friends, was the godfather of her son, and she had done this incredibly cruel thing to him. Even though she had not made any of the comments on the video, and had at various times throughout the episode encouraged the others not to go through with it, and not continue taping Reid, she should have tried harder, or threatened to tell Hotch. Her only excuse was she had been extremely drunk, and that sounded hollow even to her. This had been the first night she had really let loose since she became pregnant with Henry, and the few drinks she'd had, hit her hard. But, if she was perfectly honest with herself, JJ had been a little curious, had felt a tiny thrill as she watched Reid pleasuring himself. JJ knew Reid still had a crush on her, even after all of these years. When they had gone to the football game they had decided to just be good friends, and she loved Will with all of her heart, but it did a girls' ego a world of good to know another man 'likes' her. As she had watched Reid, had 'seen what she had missed' so to speak, she for a moment, imagined herself in the bed with him; it had given her a warm flush. Now she felt dirty and sordid; because of her cheap thrills, Reid had been betrayed by the very people he trusted the most, the only people he trusted. As JJ thought of the pain he must be feeling, her tears increased. She, of all people, knew how sensitive Reid was, this would be devastating for him. She punched in Reid's number, barely able to see through her tears, and got his voicemail. She left a stilted message, hoping he would call her back. As her thoughts turned to not having Reid at Quantico anymore, her sobs increased again; JJ quickly dialed Will to give him the bad news, hoping he wouldn't be too angry at her role in the disaster.

Garcia flew back down the hall, hoping she could somehow find a way to stop the video from being seen, get it removed from the Internet. Realistically, she knew it was impossible, but she had to try. Her pain at what had happened, and her rather large role in it, was overwhelming. Her purpose in the team, in her life actually, was to bring joy and happiness, to make everyone feel better, be positive. Now she had been party to a most vile trick on one of her nicest, sweetest friends. Reid trusted Garcia, had opened up to her over the years almost more than anyone else on the team, and she had provided the means to humiliate him, devastate him, force him to leave his job that he loved. Even worse, she had, through Kevin's mistake, carried the joke farther than any of them had imagined. When, for a moment, she thought about why they had done it, why she had participated in the prank, Garcia had to admit to herself, even through it was a painful admission, that she was curious about Reid, wondered if he was 'normal'; and he had been better than she would have imagined, as well as sweetly gorgeous. Even in her drunken state she knew what they were doing was wrong, but she had done it anyways, had even suggested they add the commentary to further the joke; she felt sick at the thought now. Her betrayal of her friend had been complete. She hoped he would be able to forgive her one day. Tears rolled down her face, as Garcia quickly logged into her computer and started to work. She was determined she would do something, anything to fix this situation; to get Reid back to work. Her mind could not touch down on what Reid must be feeling right now, it was too much, she couldn't 'go there'. Typing furiously, Garcia bit her lip, hoping the tears, that seemed to be unending, would soon stop.

Prentiss sat her desk, staring into space, deep in thought. She was not a crier, so her eyes were dry, but she was hurting just the same. Emily had know extreme loneliness since childhood, knew the hesitation of trusting people, knew how difficult it was to be sensitive, although she kept all of this deeply hidden. She knew Reid was a kindred spirit; Reid was very much like her in these ways, which is why he was one of the few people at Quantico she actually did trust. She hadn't had siblings, and from the start had thought of Reid as a little brother, had recognized his vulnerabilities, saw in him someone who also, for different reasons, was basically alone. And now, she had contributed to his pain, his immense pain. She couldn't remember much of the evening, she had been absolutely polluted with drink, but she had vague memories of the comments she had been making; disgusting comments, vile sexually suggestive comments. Prentiss was afraid to probe her mind to find out why; she couldn't face the pathetic reasons she might have for playing such a nasty trick on Reid. She had never hated herself more as she did right now. She punched in a number, and then said in a soft, very unEmily voice, "Hi, I really need to talk, could I meet you for lunch, please?"

Morgan left the conference room and headed straight to the elevators. Punching Reid's number into his cell, he left three messages by the time he got to his destination, the on-site gym. Morgan needed to hit something, desperately needed to hit something, and he didn't want to break his hand against the wall. He had a permanent locker down here, as he was in the weight room nearly every day, so quickly changed into his gym clothes. Then he stepped up to one of the hanging punching bags and began wailing away on it as hard as he could, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. If someone else had done this to Reid, he would be a dead man. But it hadn't been someone else; it had been his close friends, his colleagues, who all knew his painful past, who knew his vulnerability, his sensitivity, his kindness. Reid had taken years to trust people, to trust him, Morgan, his supposed 'big brother', protector. Morgan punched the bag so hard his wrist started to throb. That he had betrayed Reid in this way caused Morgan grief beyond comprehension. He had done one of the meanest things to one of the sweetest people, had caused him to quit his job, had humiliated him in front of thousands of people, and all because of Morgan's own hang-ups, weakness. Morgan knew exactly why he had suggested they video Reid in bed, and had made the ugly comments; although he had never, never intended for anyone else to see it. Even as drunk as he was, Morgan couldn't use that as an excuse; he had wanted to do it, because he was an idiot, a complete idiot.

It had been a few months ago, when the team had had to share rooms as they sometimes did. Morgan, of course, had been paired with Reid. Reid had been talking all evening, all through the movies Morgan was watching on the hotel TV to relax, so he had gotten irritated and yelled at him. Reid had been miffed, left the room, returning after Morgan had gone to bed. Morgan had been just falling asleep, when he had heard a noise from Reid's bed. He'd instantly woken up, on high alert. Was something wrong, was Reid having a nightmare? Morgan had listened carefully, feeling bad for snapping at Reid earlier, ready to go to him if he was having a bad dream. Then Morgan realized what he was hearing were soft moans. He slowly turned his head, so that Reid wouldn't notice, and through the dim light in the room, due to Reid having left the bathroom light on, he could just make out the movement of the sheet in the area of Reid's groin. Morgan was stunned, Reid was actually masturbating, and he was watching it. Morgan closed his eyes; but he could not shut his ears, and the sounds were now unmistakable. Morgan tried not to listen, but as usually happens, if you try not to listen to something, you seem to hear it all the more. He heard every sound, every sigh, every moan, every small cry of pleasure at the end. And to his dismay, his own groin had responded. Even though Morgan intellectually knew it was just a human response to aural stimulation, he had inexplicably felt embarrassed. That feeling had manifested itself into a juvenile, asinine joke which had left his friend hurt, mortified, shattered. Morgan punched the bag over and over, unable to erase a picture of Reid, crying, from his mind. For the rest of the day, Morgan left repeated messages for Reid, praying he would return one of them.

Rossi had stayed behind with Hotch in the conference room. "How bad is it Hotch? The video." "Really bad Dave. Nothing left to the imagination; he was on top of the sheets. And the commentary makes it ten times worse."

Rossi shook his head, still in disbelief that they had done it. "I'm sure they didn't intend for it to leak out." "I know that Dave," Hotch sighed, "But that they made it in the first place, even drunk, is what disturbs me. And as for Reid…" Hotch left the rest of the sentence unspoken, they both knew the devastation this would have inflicted on Reid.

"Did you watch the whole thing Aaron?" "I had to Dave. I had to make sure there was no mention of Reid being an FBI agent. Can you imaging the danger he would be in, not to mention the Bureau's reputation, if it was known an agent was on the Internet in such a vulnerable position?"

"Does Strauss know?" "Not yet, I'm not even sure how to tell her." Hotch's tight voice reflected his current wound up state of mind. "Well, maybe you could hold off a bit. I wouldn't put through the paperwork for Reid's resignation just yet either, give him time to calm down a bit. He may change his mind."

Neither man expected this was true, but imagining the alternative, that Reid was gone for good, was not an option either of them wanted to contemplate.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

As he sat on the park bench, willing his eyes to stay dry, Spencer Reid felt empty; he felt like his head and his body contained only large, black holes of nothingness. Everything he knew, believed, felt, was gone. He had been so angry when he left Hotch's office earlier, absolutely livid; but that had seeped out slowly as he sat on the bench, watching the birds pecking the ground for food. Breathing was what he concentrated on now; breathing, not crying and not throwing up. He was alone, completely alone. Again. Two women walked along the path in front of him. Glancing down at Reid as they passed, they stopped and turned around. "Hey, aren't you the guy from that video? Nice package. Want some company next time?" The women laughed as they resumed walking. The tears, which he had been trying to keep at bay, would not be denied any longer; as they spilled down his cheeks, Reid stood up and slowly headed home.

Reid had been in a deep, dreamless sleep when his home phone had started ringing. By the time he had woken up enough to stumble out of bed, his message machine had already kicked on. It was Bennington sanatorium calling, and Reid's heart stopped for a moment as he immediately assumed something must have happened to his mother for them to be calling him at this hour. But just as he reached for the phone, the caller said that his father had called Bennington looking for Dr. Reid's phone number. Of course they wouldn't give it to him, but they wanted to let Dr. Reid know, as his father had been adamant that it was an emergency. The message ended with the caller repeating Will Reid's number, if Dr. Reid wanted to give him a call. Reid was in shock, what in the world would induce his father, who hadn't initiated any contact with him since he was ten, want to speak to him for. Reid and his father had met up only once since he was a kid, during the Riley Jenkins murder case. When Reid had thought his father had committed a twenty-two year old murder, he had had his father brought in for questioning. Reid had no interest in establishing any kind of relationship with him after that, his father had had nearly twenty years to contact his son, but had never once lifted a finger to do so. Reid's finger hovered over the delete button of his message machine, hesitating as his mind tried to figure out what kind of 'emergency' his father would need to speak to him about. Finally, his curiosity won the argument and he dialled his father's number.

As Reid's father finished talking, Reid, who had been silent during the entire call, finally found his voice, "Why are you telling me this pack of lies?"

"It's not a lie son, please believe me. I wish it were. When I can't sleep, I go onto the Internet and watch videos, it helps me, you know, relax. I'm telling you the truth, you can see for yourself. I'm really sorry they did this to you."

Reid slammed the phone down. His father had to be lying, was trying to hurt him like he had when Reid was a child, probably angry because now it was Reid who wanted nothing to do with him. Reid's mind tried to touch down on the thought that maybe it was true, why would his father make up something so cruel which could easily be disproved? A part of Reid's brain had to concede that he wouldn't, and that maybe Reid had better get on his computer to see the supposed video of himself. Reid turned, walked on leadened feet to his computer, and with a shaky hand, booted it up. As he went to the YouTube website, his stomach began to tremble a bit with anxiety at what he might see; when he found what he was reluctantly searching for, the rest of him started trembling as well as he moved his mouse over the 'play video' arrow.

Reid walked up the sidewalk to his apartment building, he felt like everyone's eyes were watching him, felt like everyone was whispering about him as he passed by. He knew this was entirely unrealistic, that probably extremely few people had actually seen the video; but when you felt as exposed and vulnerable as he did right now, the mind was not interested in probabilities. Reid walked with his head down, his bangs swinging in front of his eyes, his shoulders hunched slightly as he tried to shrink down a bit, hiding his long, slender neck which had generated many of the filthy comments from his teammates. Reid quickened his pace, longing to reach the sanctuary of his little apartment. As he walked through his lobby doors, heading for the elevator, one of the other tenants was exiting. He, at first, stepped aside to let Reid through, but when he looked at who it was, he suddenly moved into the doorway, slightly pressing himself against Reid's side. As Reid went to apologize for brushing against him, he twinkled his eyes at Reid, then gave him a wink, saying, "3rd floor, apartment B, handsome."

Reid stood waiting for the elevator, trying to gulp down his sobs. His chest heaved as his lungs attempted to fill with the air that had suddenly gotten too thick to breath. 'What am I going to do? What am I going to do?' his brain screamed, but he felt like there was no one left in the world who he could ask. When the elevator doors closed behind him, his self-control, which had been stretched to its max for most of the day, finally deserted him. His wails of anguish ricocheted around the small enclosure, while his thin frame shook uncontrollably. As he stumbled down the hallway towards his front door, his entire face swamped with his hot tears, Reid started to vomit. He just made it into his apartment when the bile flowed out of his throat onto the floor, leaving a trail of painful burning acid along his oesophagus that exactly matched the pain in his heart, and in his soul.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Derek Danger watched the video in stunned silence. It lasted nearly twenty minutes, although nearly five of these consisted of his new 'boyfriend' swaying and stumbling a bit as he got undressed, obviously tipsy. When he finally fell onto the bed, he stayed on top of the sheets, andthat's when the action began. Derek had only been watching a few minutes, before he started to think of the mystery man as his 'boyfriend' because Derek knew, without one shadowof a doubt, that this person would soon be living in the rooms down in Derek's basement, supplying Derek with endless pleasures. Derek's mouth started to water as he began envisioning what was in store for the gorgeous young man on the screen.

A few miles away, at Quantico, Rossi was walking slowly towards Hotch's office. He had a suggestion, but he was unsure if Hotch would go for it. Rossi knew Hotch had been brooding all day over what to do about Reid; as well as how best to punish the team. This morning, in the conference room, when the team, had found out that their 'joke' had been leaked onto the Internet, each member had been shocked, had felt immediate remorse; Rossi could tell they all regretted their actions. Hotch had laced into them briefly, but was so angry he had decided to cool off a bit in case he said something he would regret later. Rossi recognizing Hotch was in a white hot fury with the team, had agreed that it was best he delay before deciding consequences.

Rossi knew the others had been extremely drunk when they made the video, and figured they probably didn't actually remember too much of what went on. He was going to recommend Hotch make the team listen to the video together, him included. Rossi didn't feel it was necessary to have them watch Reid, it would be a betrayal to Reid to view him at his most private time; but Rossi was extremely angry with all of them as well; he felt they needed to be reminded of exactly what they had done, what they had said, jog each person's memory of their part in this vile prank. Although Rossi had no desire to see Reid in such a vulnerable position, he felt it important that he at least hear how bad it was, if for no other reason than it would help him counsel Hotch on the best way to move forward. That there would be consequences was a given, but what they would be, Hotch didn't know yet. Rossi also hoped to speak to Reid, try to convince him to come back, and he felt if he knew what had happened, he would be able to sound convincing when discussing the situation with Reid.

The team shuffled into the conference room, quiet, each wondering what Hotch was going to say. Only Garcia knew what was coming, as she had been instructed to set it up; her eyes were rimmed red as she took her seat at the table. Hotch and Rossi sat at the front, matching grim expressions on their faces. JJ hung her head, while Prentiss and Morgan stared straight at the evidence wall, their faces blank masks, belying the emotional turmoil they both felt inside. Hotch looked at each team member in turn, staring at them under lowered brows, conveying without words his anger and disappointment with them; then he turned on the computer set up that Garcia had created, and Morgan's voice was heard first, the words seeming to echo around the dead silent room. As each person's brain reluctantly registered exactly what they were listening to, they started to react.

Morgan's face impossibly got stonier, under the table his hands were clenched in fists so tightly he nearly broke the skin with his fingernails.

JJ's face blanched, she lowered her head even farther down until her chin nearly rested on the table. She was shaking a bit in her chair, and Rossi could see tear drops falling from her chin onto her clasped hands.

Prentiss, whose drunken voice seemed to be the one making the nastiest comments, swallowed convulsively, as she refused to let anyone see her cry. She was sitting so stiffly, Rossi knew immediately she was holding in strong emotions; he knew from experience that when she eventually let her guard down, they would be released in a torrent.

Garcia, in stark contrast, let her emotions overwhelm her. Only Hotch's glare prevented her heartfelt sobs from filling the room and drowning out the audio they were listening to. Rossi, knowing in advance this would happen, slid a box of Kleenex towards her.

Rossi listened to the audio, heard the drunken comments, tried not to imagine what Reid was doing, and shuddered inwardly as he could only imagine what Reid felt right now knowing this video was out there in the world, created by his own teammates. Outwardly he stayed neutral, calm, his face only slightly reflecting his disgust. This was more for Hotch's benefit than the others; Rossi was trying to stay calm, hoping it would help Hotch temper his own rising anger.

But then Rossi heard it, and even he gasped out loud, his outrage on Reid's behalf increasing rapidly. The others heard it too, and tears would not be denied now by any of them. Silently, down each face, hot tears of regret rolled slowly, as Reid's moans of pleasure filled the room. It seemed to be the ultimate betrayal, hearing Reid's gasps and quiet groans; his enjoyment now tainted by exposure to the public, as well as the sordid comments that accompanied it. Rossi swallowed, unsure now if Reid would ever want to come back.

Derek Danger was watching the video for the second time. The first viewing he had been so excited about finding 'Mr. Perfect' that he hadn't been able to take it all in. So now he was starting it again, concentrating this time, starting to memorize it, actually listening to the commentary that went along with it. The drunks talking must be friends of his 'boyfriend', Derek surmised, and hoped one of them would reveal his name. Suddenly, the voices died down for a minute, and then he heard it. Derek's eyes widened, his jaw dropped as he gasped, holding his breath for a moment. Slowly, he moved his mouse over to backtrack the video; when he restarted it, Derek's wide smile made his cheeks ache. His stomach did a flip, his heart filled with joy, and his entire body filled with pure, unadulterated lust. He turned the volume of his computer up to 100%, backtracked the video once again, and closed his eyes to enjoy the sound of his 'boyfriend' moaning.

"Soon" Derek whispered to the screen, once he reopened his eyes to take in the rest of the action. "Soon, my sweet, you will be filling my house with your wonderful sound."


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE: Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews. They are so encouraging. I'm glad you are enjoying my story.**

**Chapter 6**

Derek Danger watched and rewatched the video for four hours. He memorized every minute of it, memorized all of the comments, knew exactly where the voices would stay quiet and he could hear his 'boyfriend' enjoy himself. It was during the third hour that he got lucky; he was turning the volume up at the part in the video where the beautiful guy on the bed was nearly over the edge of ecstasy, when suddenly Derek realized that he could hear a fourth voice, very faintly. The three voices he had heard throughout the video had been loud, raucous, laughing, but this voice was quiet, urgent, and soft. Pressing pause, he turned the volume down a bit, pressed his ear against the computer speaker, then pressed play. Derek closed his eyes, concentrating on finding the voice again.

Rewinding the video slightly, he replayed it once more, and finally heard what he had been waiting for, a name. Derek again replayed the short segment, "Guys, stop, it's not right. Guys let's go, it's not fair to Reid." That was it, the only time that soft voice showed up, and it had been in the background, behind the other voices. Another friend, obviously, who wasn't keen to participate. Derek had actually stood up, stretched and did a little butt wiggle. 'Reid' was his boyfriend's name. Derek didn't know if this was a first name or a last name, but it was a starting point for his investigation to find the young man. "Reid." Derek let the name roll over his tongue a few times. It certainly fit, the man did indeed look like a thin reed, albeit an absolutely gorgeous thin reed. 'Maybe I'll let him keep it' Derek thought, as he sat back down to "enjoy" himself for the third time, as he watched 'Reid' writhing on the bed.

Reid sipped his coffee, wondering what he should do first. After his mini-breakdown yesterday, he had spent the rest of that day lying on his bed, unable to stop crying. That night, he had scared himself, his cravings for Dilaudid intense, his need to forget almost overwhelming. But Reid had never let his emotions rule his life. He had basically raised himself since early childhood, along with taking care of and shielding his mentally ill mother; so his reserves of inner strength were deep. Since childhood, Reid had always pushed his emotions to the side, had not let them be seen by others, or let them interfere with his life.

It had only been in the last few years at the BAU, when he had become close friends with his teammates, had trusted them completely, that he had begun to let his emotions show through. He'd even, a few times, let them see tears. Of course, becoming more emotional had hindered him in the field for a while, as he started to get very upset when viewing the victims' bodies; but all in all, Reid had been glad he was able to let down his emotional guard a bit. Now, he regretted ever letting himself weaken. He should have known better, he should have remembered that it was too risky to let others close, too dangerous to expose himself that way. As soon as he had woken up that morning, Reid had begun mentally rebuilding his fortress around his emotions that he had originally constructed over twenty years ago. 'This time' he vowed to himself, 'it would never be breached.'

Reid poured his second cup of coffee, and began to think. He needed to find another job as soon as possible; his mother's insurance did not fully cover the fees at Bennington, and Reid would not let her be moved to a cheaper facility, it wouldn't be fair that she should suffer because of Reid. So he needed an income soon, as his savings would be soon be strained. Then, as soon as he knew where he would be working, he would need to move. Reid thought it unlikely he would be working in Washington, so he would need to relocate; even if he did stay in this city, Reid could not stay in this building, not knowing one of his own neighbours had seen him naked, doing 'that.' Reid couldn't even say it to himself, it still hurt too much. Problem was he had no idea what kind of career to pursue. All he had ever wanted to do was join the BAU. When he was fourteen, Jason Gideon had given a lecture at Reid's college; from that day, all Reid's focus had been on joining the FBI. He had, of course, researched everything he could on the FBI, and the BAU in particular. He had gotten his doctorates as a way to fill the time until he reached the minimum entrance age to join the Bureau; but in the end, Gideon had found out about the young genius, and had gotten him accepted earlier. Now, due to circumstances that had been totally out of his control, he was forced to quit the only career he had ever wanted.

Reid felt his defences begin to sag, his anger and humiliation beginning to again rise within him; suddenly a wave of sadness and betrayal washed over him, and he once again felt hot tears trail down his face. Reid gave himself mental shake, and moved to his computer, determined to make a start on his new career search.

Derek Danger had been so excited the night before, discovering the video, finding out his new 'boyfriend's' name, that he had forgotten to set his alarm, causing him to awaken 20 minutes late. Now, as his back burned from the four lashes with the whip he had been forced to give himself for his deviation from his schedule, Derek contemplated his best way to go about finding his 'Reid.' As he ate his breakfast, Derek decided he would first put in another twelve straight hours of work; this would give him a chance to come up with some ideas for discovering the identity of the mysterious, alluring 'Reid' while he worked, and also give him enough banked work hours in case he needed travel time. Derek had been lucky enough in the past to actually lure his prospective 'boyfriends' to travel to his house; but they had all been men who had posted their own videos, so were more than amenable to getting together with him. His other 'boyfriends', who he had found out in public, had had to be persuaded, of course, and in some cases, drugged, but they had not usually been known to Derek beforehand, they had been spur of the moment selections.

But 'Reid', he was a completely new experience. Derek shivered, as he thought about his new 'boyfriend', his face breaking into a smile that would have sent needles of fear down the spines of anyone seeing it. "Reid" he whispered aloud, "Reid". Just saying the name was causing Derek's body to react. He decided it would be worth four more lashes with the whip for deviating from his schedule again, so he could watch the video once more, imagine his fist twisting 'Reid's' hair tightly, and 'take care' of himself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The sky was completely filled with dark gray clouds, the wind whipping the trees around violently. Reid gazed out of his apartment window, his mood exactly matching the weather. It had been four days since he'd quit the BAU, and his brain had still not settled on a new career. His frustration with his usually methodical mind, he knew to be a mental smoke screen, his mind's way of self preservation; the frustration with himself, masking the complete and utter, shame, betrayal and humiliation he still felt. Reid wandered into his kitchen and took stock; he knew he had to venture out to the grocery store today, he had put it off long enough.

'Maybe a walk in the rain that will soon my falling will help clear my head,' Reid considered. He moved to his bedroom to retrieve the baseball cap that JJ had made him purchase when they had gone to the football game together four years ago. Reid hoped with the baseball cap covering his hair, and his coat collar pulled up to cover his neck, maybe he wouldn't be recognized by anyone who had seen that disgusting video. Reid prayed the other tenant, who obviously had seen it, would not be around while he was leaving. As Reid opened his door, he wondered briefly what the team was working on right now. Then he shook his head, that wasn't his concern anymore; those agents weren't his colleagues now, and they hadn't turned out to be his friends after all, either. With a slow, heavy step, Reid walked out of the building, just as the first cold raindrops began to fall…..

Morgan looked out at the clouds, remembering how Reid loved the rain. Whenever Morgan would complain about it, he would have to sit through a lecture on all of the benefits of water and rain. Morgan would give anything to have Reid back beside him, boring him to death with facts and statistics about rain.

"I really miss him." Prentiss suddenly said, surprising herself that she had spoken her thoughts out loud. After the first couple of days, they had agreed to try and not talk about Reid at work; it was too painful, knowing they were the cause of his leaving, and it had been interfering with their work. Hotch, still extremely angry with them, was really coming down on them hard about every little thing in their cases. He had had told them all to start paying more attention to details in their work or he would be transferring every one of them out of the BAU.

Hotch sat at his desk, also looking out at the wild weather. He hadn't sent through Reid's resignation paperwork yet, but he knew he wouldn't be able to delay much longer. Strauss had already asked about Reid, and he had palmed her off with an excuse about personal time. Hotch sighed, wishing he could just talk to Reid, but Reid was not answering anybody's calls, even his. Hotch knew Morgan had gone to Reid's apartment on Wednesday night, but Reid had refused to open the door, or answer Morgan's entreaty to speak to him. Hotch also knew that Rossi, on the quiet, had called down to Bennington, pretending to be the Director of the FBI, to see if Reid was down there visiting his mother, but they hadn't heard from him.

Hotch stood up as JJ came to his door. "The information is ready" she said quietly, her face pale and drawn. "Gather the team" Hotch said, making his way to the conference room. They had just gotten a case that would take them to Atlanta, Georgia to investigate a serial killer who seemed to be targeting elderly women. Hotch told himself that when the team got back to Quantico, he would go over to Reid's home himself, and insist on speaking to him. Hotch had an uncomfortable feeling about all this silence by Reid; he could just feel that something was happening, he just didn't know what…..

Derek Danger looked at the gathering gray clouds and smiled. A dark, rainy night would fit into his plans perfectly, it provided wonderful cover. He shivered with excitement as he thought about how close he was to his ultimate goal. Derek pressed the key on his computer that would send his weekly work schedule to the head office of the company he worked for, then closed down his computer. Normally, this week anyways, he would immediately continue his search to find his 'Reid', but tonight he had plans. Derek remembered how he had felt on Monday night, when he'd first discovered the video of his new 'boyfriend'; as soon as he had started watching that gorgeous person start to undress, he had known immediately he was meant for Derek, he had felt it to the very marrow of his bones. And now, it seemed, the Fates were on his side, as they had provided him with someone who claimed to know his 'boyfriend'.

On Tuesday, Derek had started his search to find out the identity of the young man in the video, 'Reid'. Not knowing if this was a last name or a first name, Derek had Googled it, and had found tens of thousands of hits. Undaunted, he had methodically begun going into each site, hoping to find a photo of the Reid referenced, in order to pinpoint which was his 'Reid.' By Wednesday night he had gone through hundreds of sites, and had decided to take a break and work another angle for information. In the past, Derek had found numerous other boyfriends from their videos, and had discovered that he could garner a lot of information about them from the comments people left, information that made the eventual hook-ups run smoothly. Of course, most of those old 'boyfriends' had proved to be inadequate quite quickly, most barely lasting a week. But Derek knew, just knew, that this 'boyfriend' would be different. This one was definitely 'Mr. Right.'

After he had been reading comments for about 30 minutes, Derek hit gold. "I think this guy lives in my building" had been submitted by FREEANDEASY. Now, one of Derek's skills was computer research and tracing, so it didn't take him very long to discover that FREEANDEASY was actually Doug Bronson. Derek found his Facebook page, that listed an email address (Friggin' idiot, Derek thought), discovered Doug was a liberal gay man who had a definite foot fetish, and sent him a provocative message that Derek knew Doug would be intrigued by. His plan worked perfectly, and tonight Derek would be meeting Doug at a discreet gay bar, to discuss the foot fetish porn video Derek was supposedly making and wanted Doug to have a prominent role in. Derek intended to pump him for as much information as he could get about 'Reid'; then, maybe, have a bit of fun with Doug too, before he 'destroyed the evidence' so to speak. Derek smiled as he remembered his elation when he discovered that his 'Reid' lived right here in Washington; additional proof that the Fates were on his side and that this relationship was meant to be.

Derek started packing his leather satchel, remembering to take his camera with the wide zoom lens. Derek figured he might as well take some pictures that he could enjoy later, and it leant credibility to his story. He also packed some of the other items he would be using later, including a filled syringe, as he wouldn't have too much time to play, and he didn't intend to leave Doug alive to start blabbing about his meeting with the 'porn film director.' Derek pushed his truncheon into the case and zipped it. Glancing around to make sure everything was in order, Derek opened his front door, feeling a little lightheaded from excitement. Tonight he was going to be one step closer to his ultimate ambition; finding 'Reid, Mr. Perfect', bringing him home, breaking him in, introducing him to Derek's various pleasures. It was extremely windy now, and as Derek walked to his car, cold rain was just starting to fall.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Hotch and Rossi sat on the jet, quietly discussing Reid. Rossi thought it was a good idea for Hotch to go to Reid's apartment once they were back, and stated he would go along too. "Maybe with both of us showing up, two senior agents whom he respects, he will be more likely to let us in to talk to him." Rossi explained.

"Maybe you're right Dave." Hotch sighed, "I'm just worried that by keeping himself alone like this, he'll..." Hotch didn't have the heart to voice his worry, but Rossi knew what Hotch was worried about. Rossi had found out about Reid's Diladid addiction, and knew Hotch was concerned about a relapse.

"I was thinking the same thing Aaron. But hopefully it hasn't come to that, and won't." Rossi pictured in his mind the tall, slender, handsome young man, a genius, but so shy and awkward at times. 'Hard to imagine him strung out on drugs' Rossi thought.

"Dave, there's something else bothering me" Hotch spoke hesitantly, not wanting to sound ridiculous. "I'm not sure what the issue is, exactly, but I've been feeling.." Hotch didn't know how to describe what was bothering him. "I've been feeling like something is not right, with Reid. I mean, besides his addiction."

Rossi took a moment to process what Hotch said, and had not said, before he answered, "Well, we both know the type of people that are out in the world, we know them only too well. And, taking into account Reid's sensitive, vulnerable nature, it's no surprise you would feel unease at this situation. But I'm a true believer in gut instincts, Aaron, and I think, maybe, it would be a good idea for us to keep trying to reach Reid by phone while we're in Atlanta." Rossi sat back, pondering if sending Reid a letter by courier would achieve any positive results...

If Derek Danger had written the evening as a movie script, it could have not gone any more perfectly to plan. The gay bar had been dark, smoky and packed with men who wanted nothing more than to do what they wanted to do, with complete anonymity. Due to his size, Derek was checked out as he passed through the bar, of course, but when he honed in on the table at the back where Doug said he would meet him, he was confident that the other patrons would not be disturbing them.

Doug was waiting for him, and by the size of his pupils, had obviously already started 'the party' without him. This too, worked to Derek's advantage, as it meant Doug was already off his guard, and primed for questioning. Derek introduced himself, ordered them both drinks, and began the evening. Doug was totally not Derek's type physically; he was tall, but muscular, and his hair was a blond buzz cut. Derek smiled, knowing exactly the type of man Doug was, knowing Doug's extreme vanity would make Derek's plan work flawlessly. Using copious compliments, and a detailed description of the films he supposedly made, which had been intended to get Doug 'hot and bothered', worked like a charm; Derek quickly had Doug completely enamoured with him. After that, it was a breeze to get Doug to reveal his personal information.

Derek started to talk about videos he enjoyed watching on the Internet, and asked if Doug had ever seen an exceptionally hot one that had been posted recently featuring a tall, thin young man. Doug knew immediately which one Derek meant, and was more than happy to start discussing the video and the fact that the man was his neighbour. It turned out Doug didn't actually know him, had just seen him going in and out of the apartment building; he didn't even know his name or where he worked. But Doug had seen him up close the other day, and noticed that he had beautiful hazel eyes. That pertinent fact had not been revealed in the darkish video, so Derek let himself take a minute to imagine staring into hazel eyes while he enjoyed his pleasures with his 'boyfriend.' Refocusing himself to his current situation, Derek realized that Doug was describing what he did while watching that video. Derek had to force himself to control his rising anger as he listened to Doug go into extreme detail about what he'd like to do to Derek's new 'boyfriend', if he ever got the opportunity. "Maybe next time I see him, I'll ask him out. I bet his moaning sounds even better in person" Doug laughed. 'How dare this piece of shit talk about my 'Reid' like that' he thought, and decided to cut short the socializing part of his plan, and head straight to its conclusion in the nearby alley.

Derek drained his third drink, encouraged a now totally inebriated Doug to finish his, and walked him down the block to a secluded dead-end alley. Convincing Doug to pose for a few photos, explaining he was taking them with the intention of using them for publicity shots for his new fetish movie that Doug would be in, Derek quickly had him naked, lying on his back on the cold, wet pavement, flexi-cuffed to a railing. Derek took some pictures for his own amusement, posing Doug like a male Barbie doll, using some of the items from his satchel as props. When Doug started to complain about the cold wind and rain pouring down on him, Derek took that as his cue to start the real 'fun' of the evening. Derek, impervious to the cold rain, confident they would not be disturbed due to the wet weather, took his time; he enjoyed 'playing' with Doug, who he had first gagged, for over an hour.

'Thank God for rain, Nature's washcloth' thought Derek, as the copious amounts of blood, and other bodily fluids, that were the end results of 'playtime,' were swiftly washed away down the sewer. Derek hadn't originally intended for there to be much blood, but once he let himself remember that this disgusting man had watched his 'boyfriend's' video, had actually seen his 'Reid' undressing, had seen him nude on a bed, had touched himself while watching his 'Reid' writhing with pleasure, Derek had momentarily gone wild with rage. Derek checked his watch, noted he was still within his allotted time for this encounter, and then bent once again to his satchel, extracting the syringe. Taking one last picture, he plunged the needle into Doug's neck.

After a few minutes, Derek quickly took Doug's wallet and keys, gave the body another swift kick in the groin for good measure, calmly left the alley, got into his car and drove home. At first he had been tempted to immediately drive to the apartment building, but he knew he had to have a well thought out plan. Derek wanted everything to be perfect when he went to get his new 'boyfriend.'


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

As he spread the shaving foam across his stomach, Derek Danger knew he had to be extra careful while he shaved his body today. He didn't want any nicks to mar his skin, wanted to be perfectly smooth and soft for his 'Reid.' Derek slowly dragged the razor up his torso, carefully rinsing the blade after each stroke. He still felt exhilarated from his 'playtime' last night with Doug. He had posted some of the pictures he had taken of Doug posing, onto a few kink sites he occasionally frequented, when he didn't have a 'boyfriend' at hand, and they were getting a tremendous response. Tonight, though, tonight was the night he had been waiting for, longing for, the 'BIG' night; tonight he was going to be bringing his new 'boyfriend' home.

As Derek's mind turned to the thin, handsome man from the video, remembering how he looked lying on the bed, Derek's body began to get excited. Derek froze for a moment, as he was shaving below his belly button, just as his groin reacted to his thoughts of 'Reid.' Unsure for a moment if he should ignore it and continue shaving, Derek decided he'd better take care of himself first, safe in the knowledge that he had ample time to get his body exactly how he wanted it. So, he placed the razor on the ledge in his shower stall, coated his hands in the foam still left on his stomach, moved his left hand around to stimulate his behind, grasped himself with his right hand and proceeded to have a wonderful time while replaying his 'boyfriends' video in his mind; while repeating the deliciously disgusting dialogue that he loved, aloud.

Thirty minutes later, freshly shaved and moisturized, Derek was getting dressed when he decided he'd take a walk after his breakfast. He wanted to go over his plan again, making sure he accounted for every possibility; he knew a brisk walk in the cool air would make clearing his mind and concentrating on his plan a lot easier. Luckily for him, because it was Saturday, his schedule was a little more flexible in the morning; he didn't want to have to punish himself and mark his skin. Derek looked at his smooth, muscled chest and stomach before he buttoned up his shirt, knowing it was perfect, knowing he was perfect, confident his new 'boyfriend' was going to be very happy. Derek smiled at himself in the mirror. This night was going to be the happiest night in his whole life, he just knew it, could feel it in his gut. 'Mr. Right' was finally coming home….

The homicide detective stared down at the battered body in the alley. He sighed, taking a moment to glance up at the blue sky and wish this had not been his Saturday to work. The victim was his second dead body today and it wasn't even noon yet. This scene was by far the worst, made even more difficult by the fact that the heavy rain last night had virtually washed everything clean. Detective Green had been doing this job for over five years now, and knew that in this scenario, evidence, including DNA, would be very hard to retrieve. Unless the perpetrator had been stupid enough to leave his DNA inside the body somewhere, they would not be finding him by that sometimes simple route.

That the unknown suspect was a male, Detective Green was absolutely certain; the level of damage to the body was way too high for a woman suspect, especially the strength it would have taken to literally bash the man's face in. He sighed again, realizing identifying the victim was going to be almost as impossible as the suspect, since the head basically had no recognizable face, most of the fingers were crushed and the skin on all of the finger tips had been shredded, making fingerprints unlikely. The detective knew someone had spent a lot of time and effort on this murder, had made certain there would be no incriminating evidence; someone like that was unlikely to have left anything anywhere on the body. Detective Green started making notes in his pad, already certain in the back of his mind, that this poor guy would probably remain a John Doe, his murderer uncaught, until he was eventually buried by the city, in an unmarked grave.

The detective hoped that the attack was personal, as the injuries seemed to indicate, done by someone with an especially big 'hate on' for this victim; he didn't want to even consider that this might be a new serial killer starting up. Unfortunately, Detective Green had a very bad feeling about this murder scene; a gut feeling that this was going to turn out to be an extremely bad case….

As the theme music started at the beginning of the movie, Star Wars, Reid sat in his living room wondering if he would ever feel anything resembling 'okay', again. He had been working diligently to mentally rebuild his emotional fortress, which had always protected him in the past; had done a pretty good job considering it was less than a week since his world exploded. Unfortunately, when Reid let his guard down, it all still seemed so raw. Especially in his quiet, lonely apartment. Reid had hoped watching one of his favourite movies would alleviate his overwhelming depression a little; at least let him escape into fantasy world for a few hours, as he had during other painful times in his life. But, if anything, hearing the opening music was making him feel worse.

Reid remembered the last time he had watched this film; it had been when the local movie theatre had been replaying some of the classic movies of the 70's and 80's. Reid had gone to nearly every one of them, as these decades were his favourite for movies. When Star Wars had been shown, he'd actually convinced Garcia, Morgan and Prentiss to join him. They'd had a blast, mainly at Reid's expense of course, especially when he quoted the dialogue along with the characters on screen, but it had all been in good fun. They had even gone for drinks afterwards at a nearby bar, and Reid had done the team proud during a trivia tournament, winning numerous rounds of drinks for them all. The happy memory taunted Reid, relentlessly reminding him of how much he had lost. Due to those very same people.

Reid felt tears start to seep between his closed lashes, his stomach burning while the anger, humiliation and grief churned through him again. It was just so unfair, he had been so happy; he's loved his job, and the team were like family. And now? As he raced to the bathroom to empty his stomach, Reid wondered if he would ever stop hurting.


	10. Chapter 10

**NOTE: Thanks so much for your reviews. I really appreciate your comments.**

**Chapter 10**

As he snapped the lock of his suitcase closed, Reid began to feel a little better, like some of the oppressive weight had been lifted off of his back. He had just gotten off the phone with a travel agent, who was currently searching for the first available flight to Las Vegas for him. Reid hoped she would find a red-eye flight, then he could leave late tonight and be in Vegas early tomorrow morning.

This afternoon, while he had been sitting on his bathroom floor, recovering from vomiting his anguish into the toilet, Reid had decided that in order to start moving forward, he needed to get away from the city for a while. He figured it would be easier to start seriously planning his future away from the BAU, and the people in it. Knowing they were only a few miles away, made it difficult for him to forget the nasty trick they had played on him; it was also hindering his resolve to never work for the FBI again. Reid hoped his mother was in a relaxed state when he got home to Vegas, as he really needed someone to talk to about everything that had happened, and she was one of the few people he trusted implicitly. In the back of his mind, Reid knew he could always talk to Hotch, or even Rossi, they hadn't been involved in making the video, but he wanted to talk to someone unbiased on the side of the BAU. Maybe later, once he had it sorted and organized it in his head, and in his life, he would talk to Hotch. For a brief moment, Reid wished Gideon was around, he would have been able to talk to him about all this; but he too had betrayed Reid, in a way, by running off without a word, or backward glance at his young protégée. Even though he had left a letter, he hadn't left any way to contact him, so that was a dead end thought.

Reid shook his head and moved his suitcase to his front door. He was getting an open ticket because he wasn't sure when, or even if, he would be coming back. He made a short phone call, then went into the washroom for a quick shower. Now that he had some concrete plans in place, his mind began to flow a little more freely, and he started to contemplate speaking to the Dean of the university in Las Vegas about picking up some work as a researcher. Reid heard his phone ringing, 'hopefully that's the agent', he thought, pondering if he should run to pick it up; but since he was already undressed, he decided to leave the message machine to get it. As the warm water cascaded down his slim back, Reid lathered up his hands and began washing himself, wondering if his future would be in Las Vegas, with his mom….

Morgan and Prentiss were gazing at the victim board, trying to find a tie, a similarity between the elderly victims that would give them a hint as to why the Unsub chose them, and clarify his profile a bit more. Prentiss heaved a sigh; they had been at this all day, throwing around thoughts and ideas, guessing at a motive, debating points about the murders.

"You know, this would all be a lot easier if Reid was here to help." Prentiss's voice sounded tired, irritated. She knew it was down to them that Reid had quit, but she also figured that Reid must know how much they needed him and his genius brain on the team, why did he have to quit? Prentiss was actually missing Reid more than she liked to admit, even to herself. She had grown up always moving due to her parents careers, so had difficulty forming lasting attachments with people. This was one of the first jobs where she actually became close to each team member, and she was really feeling the loss of one of them. Prentiss, not used to being so emotional, gave herself a mental shake, deciding when they got back to Washington she was going to try and get Reid to see her, and if necessary she would go down on bended knee to beg him to come back to the BAU where he belonged, and where they desperately needed him.

Morgan knew they needed Reid, he didn't need Prentiss to remind him of that obvious fact; no one knew better than him, how much they all relied on Reid's intellect, his eidetic memory and his ability to speed read. Morgan also knew he very much needed his 'little brother' around; to tease, to mentor, to be friends with. Almost since the first day Reid joined the BAU, Morgan had felt responsible for him, had felt he needed to be his protector. Even after all of these years, Reid was still the same awkward, socially shy, geeky genius, albeit with more life experiences; and Morgan missed him. And he agreed with Emily, if Reid was here they would probably be farther along with their investigation. Morgan heaved him own sigh, also deciding to once again go to Reid's apartment, and demand Reid let him. Morgan wondered what he was up to right now….

As he sat in his car outside of the apartment building, Derek Danger thought about his plan. He had actually devised two main plans, with variations of their executions depending on the circumstances. Plan one depended on his 'Reid' leaving the building, so Derek had been parked on the street since just after 1:00pm. Derek knew this plan was a little chancier, as he would be snatching the young man out in public, where the chances of being seen, or stopped, were extremely high. On the other hand, the extreme thrill he would get from succeeding would have been worth the risk. Thinking about it made Derek shiver with excitement; his adrenalin started pumping as he pictured in his mind how it would have gone down.

But, his 'new boyfriend' had not emerged from the building, and now it was after 7:00pm, so Derek knew he would be reverting to plan two. This plan would take more work on Derek's part, but the likelihood of success was almost guaranteed. Derek had worked it out, every angle; he had brought along everything he would need for it to go smoothly. The only way it could fail would be if someone caught him, or if his long unused skills deserted him. This was unlikely, but since he wanted to be absolutely sure, Derek knew he couldn't wait any longer, he needed to get up to Doug's apartment now.

Derek slung his heavy knapsack over his shoulder, and nonchalantly walked up to the door. Pretending to search in his pocket for his keys, he glanced over at the buzzer board hoping this building still printed the last names of the tenants under their buzzers. No go, modern times meant anonymity was the norm, only the apartment numbers were listed. 'Well it was a long shot anyways' Derek thought, quickly opening the door of the building and heading to the elevators. On his way up to Doug's floor, Derek wondered if Doug's body had been discovered yet. He smiled as he remembered what fun he had had last night, his hand still ached a bit from 'playtime.' Derek wasn't concerned about the police, he knew even when Doug was eventually found, they would have an extremely difficult time identifying him, he had made sure of that. Derek had actually read about shredding the fingertips in a true crime book; he just hadn't realized the first time he used that maneuver, how much he would enjoy doing the actual cutting.

Once Derek let himself into Doug's apartment, he hurried over to the alarm system, and quickly punched in the numbers he had found in Doug's wallet. He had just known they were an alarm code; he had taken it as another sign from Fate that he was meant to come here and get 'Mr. Right'. He knew it was more than likely his 'Reid' would have an alarm as well, but Derek had experience with installing alarms, so was confident he could disable it with ease. In fact, he was going to be relying on many of his old manual skills this night; so after a quick look around Doug's small apartment, Derek slipped on the surgical gloves he had brought with him, and began to study the locks on the door….


	11. Chapter 11

**NOTE: Just thought I'd let you know that my Q/A is up in the Forum 'Chit Chat in Author's Corner.' This is an excellent forum, full of information.**

**Chapter 11 **

Checking his watch, Derek Danger decided he had better make his call before it was too late. Picking up Doug's phone, and dialling the main number for this apartment building, he could have danced a happy jig when a very tired, harassed sounding woman answered. Derek couldn't have asked for a better person to get his information from, a woman obviously exhausted; probably a busy, overworked, anxious-for-her-bed mother, he deduced from the sounds of arguing kids he could hear in the background.

Affecting a polite, deep Southern drawl, Derek started his speech, "Hi, I'm so sorry to disturb you at this busy time of the evening, but I'm trying to find an old school friend of mine. I know he lives in your building, but I've misplaced the exact apartment number. I was hoping you would be able to help me. His name's Reid. Do you know who I mean? Tall, skinny guy, brown hair?" Derek hoped he sounded plausible, as this was the easiest plan he had created to get his new 'boyfriend's' apartment number.

"Why can't you just call him?" she replied, a tinge of doubt in her voice, as well as impatience.

Derek had been prepared for this, "Well ma'am, normally that's what I would do, but I haven't seen him in years and I was kind of hoping to surprise him by just showing up on his doorstep. We used to be very good friends, and now that I've relocated to Washington, I'd like to renew our acquaintance. We had some great times." Derek let a note of wistfulness creep into his voice, guaranteed to be echoed in the soul of a tired, overworked woman. Derek was certain she had warmed to him; between that line, and the Southern accent, which always seemed to charm women, Derek knew he'd get what he wanted.

"Well, it is nice to meet up with old friends if you get the chance. He's in apartment 4a."

"Thank you so much ma'am, you've been very kind. You have a nice evening." Derek hung up, letting out a whoop of joy. 4a. Just one floor above him; Derek looked up at the ceiling, gazing at it as if he could see his 'Reid' through the boards. Fate again had played its hand in getting 'Mr. Perfect' for Derek, by letting the receiver of Derek's call be the perfect individual to trick. Derek laughed out loud. He was one gigantic step closer to his prize, and nothing would stop him now, nothing. In a few short hours he would have his 'Reid' in his home, no, their home. Derek's body began to tingle as he imagined holding Reid in his arms tomorrow. Derek considered having some 'fun' with himself, but knew he needed to practice for later tonight, and time was marching on.

Once again kneeling in front of Doug's door, Derek studied the tool roll he had laid out on the floor, then slowly selected a small thin screwdriver. Derek, in one of his previous jobs, had worked on construction sites, where he had gained experience in carpentry, plumbing, electrical; these had all come in very handy when he created his 'play' rooms in his basement. Plus, more importantly, he had installed nearly every type of lock and security system there was on the market at the time. Although it had been a few years ago now, Derek was confident he would be able to remove any lock quickly and efficiently; having Doug's apartment door to practice on was perfect. Dressed in a blue overall and hat, so he would look like a maintenance worker if any one passed down the hall, he started to disassemble the main lock on the door. Three hours later, Doug had successfully removed the three locking systems and reinstalled them twice, as well as uninstalling and reinstalling the security alarm. He wasn't as fast as he wanted to be, but he knew there would be no clues left behind in case the police got involved.

It was just after 11:00pm, still too early to go and get his man. Derek had to make sure the corridor on the fourth floor would be empty while he worked, he couldn't afford any witnesses. Derek wandered into Doug's kitchen, his excitement at what lay ahead making him ravenous. Suddenly Derek's whole body went cold, his mind began to spin out of control; he had forgotten to eat his supper at 6:00pm. Derek had known he would probably be in his car at that time, unless his 'Reid' had made an appearance and Derek had snatched him, so he'd brought along provisions in his backpack. But he had been so busy imagining all the fun he was going to have 'playing' in the basement rooms with his new 'boyfriend,' food had been pushed completely from his mind. Now, he was five hours late. Derek knew what that meant; his body unconsciously starting to shake as his brain reminded him of the penalty for late meals. Derek had never had to discipline himself for being this far off schedule, he wasn't sure if he would be in any kind of shape afterwards to complete his plan. Also, he had wanted to keep himself perfect, for his 'Reid's' first weekend. He started to feel his mind splintering, as his eyes shifted wildly from side to side, pungent sweat beginning to seep out of his skin.

All of a sudden, a ray of light pierced through the raging shadows overtaking him; Reid. Derek's calm was instantly restored. Yes, he would need to be punished, and yes if he deferred the required punishment it would have to be doubled; but, the reason he had missed the meal was because of his 'Reid.' Which meant, when rationalized logically, half of the required penalty belonged to his new 'boyfriend.' Derek smiled as he thought of the pleasure he would get from meting out that punishment; anyone seeing the expression on Derek's face would have felt their blood run ice cold...

As Hotch sat leaning against the headboard in the darkened hotel room, his thoughts were again about Reid. Hotch wished he knew a way to reach him, emotionally. Monday morning, in his office, Reid had been beyond upset. He'd raged at Hotch, who unfortunately had not known at the time, just how bad the video Reid was talking about actually was; Hotch knew his reaction had been inadequate. Hotch always tried to keep himself calm, measured, in the face of another person's high emotions; and truth be told he had been so surprised at Reid's anger, and even more at Reid's sudden tears, that he had fallen back behind his own protective emotional barrier. Now, of course, Hotch wanted, no, needed, to speak to Reid again. It had to be worked out, not just so Reid might rejoin the BAU, although that was everyone's greatest hope, but because Hotch knew it would negatively colour the rest of Reid's life if he didn't address issue and the feelings it provoked.

Plus there was something else. Hotch couldn't put his finger on it; it was almost like a wisp of acrid smoke floating through his brain and circling through his gut. There was definitely something not right, not right with Reid. Hotch stretched out his arm, lifting the phone, intending to call Reid again, in hopes he would answer. As he started to dial, Hotch glanced at the illuminated numbers on the clock-radio. 'Damn, it's too late to call.' Disappointed, Hotch replaced the phone. Knowing he needed to get some sleep, as they still had not caught their Unsub here in Atlanta, Hotch lay on his side, closed his eyes, and tried to let his mind drift, as he wrapped his arms around his stomach...


	12. Chapter 12

**NOTE: My apologies for the unavoidable delay of this chapter. And thanks very much for the reviews.**

**Chapter 12 **

In a church tower a few blocks away, the bell tolled slowly, three times. Reid, who had only been asleep for about an hour, stirred as his brain registered the doleful sound. Instantly recognizing the familiar noise his brain told his body to relax again, causing Reid to sigh softly as he turned onto his side and curled his hand under his chin. As his breathing evened out once more, Derek Danger, who was standing in the shadows, quietly moved towards the bed. Derek could see perfectly, as the small nightlight in the hallway cast a dull light across the room.

He had been very surprised to find a light burning outside of his 'boyfriends' open door to his bedroom. He had had to take a moment to reconcile his mind to the fact that his 'Mr. Perfect' was obviously afraid of the dark. He had worried that this aberration would mean the young man was inadequate and Derek's adventure would have to end in this room. But once he'd entered the bedroom, and seen his gorgeous 'Reid' asleep in his bed, all doubts fled from his mind. He reasoned that being afraid of the dark was not unconquerable, and he, Derek Danger, would be the one to help his man get over this problem. In fact, knowing his 'Reid' was afraid of something could come in quite handy while he was being taught the rules of the house.

When Derek had hurried silently through the apartment, he had not even spared a moment to look around, his focus was solely on his 'Reid.' Now that he was finally gazing at his greatest desire, Derek found he couldn't seem to focus his mind. His 'boyfriend' was just too overwhelming in his perfectness. Derek had thought he was a vision when he first saw this thin man in the video. But now, in person, he was almost too much to take in. Derek closed his eyes, forcing his rapidly escalating heartbeat to slow down. His first and only instinct was to pounce on the slim form in front of him, like a cat on a trapped mouse. But Derek knew this wasn't the time or the place; he had to get Reid out of the apartment and into Derek's basement rooms as quickly as possible, before anybody in the building noticed anything, and definitely before he, himself, lost control.

Ignoring his body's obvious excitement at seeing his 'boyfriend' lying in bed, Derek softly crept over to the side of the bed. 'Blue pyjamas', Derek smiled, 'cute'. Derek reached his hand out towards the object of his fascination, noticing it was shaking slightly. Suddenly hearing a loud bang outside, Derek leaped back into the corner, which was shrouded in darkness. Reid once more stirred, his eyes flickering for a moment, as his brain decided whether he should wake up or not. Derek held his breath, could hear his heart pounding away in his chest, as he watched Reid, turn over once more, breathe a soft moan, then slide again into a peaceful sleep.

Reid's movement had left him lying on his back, his head turned, his arms flung with abandon over his head. He looked so young, so vulnerable, so totally exposed. Derek, once again stood next to the bed. As his eyes strained somewhat, drinking in every detail of the young man, Derek had never felt so happy in his entire life. This time the urge to touch the handsome man was too much for him to control. Slowly he bent down, trailing his fingertips softly along Reid's neck; the long, beautiful, delectable neck that had generated so many of the comments on the video. Reid breathed a quiet sigh in his sleep, parting his lips a fraction of an inch. Derek could have screamed with joy. His 'boyfriend' obviously loved Derek's touch. "Just wait, my perfect" Derek whispered "Soon you will feel my touch everywhere." Almost against his will, Derek moved his fingers into Reid's soft hair, revelling in the feel of the strands as he stroked his fingers down, tucking some behind Reid's ear. Derek knew he shouldn't be taking this long, he knew there was still so much to do before he drove back home, but his body had taken control, his fingers were now dictating his next move, and they wanted to explore.

Derek put his one hand into the pocket of his blue overall, and let the other hand stroke his 'boyfriend's' hair again. Unfortunately, this time when he curled the strands around Reid's ear, his fingertip brushed around the edge of his 'Reid's' earlobe. This was enough to cause Reid's brain to register the touch and kick into gear; he slowly opened his eyes. Completely sleep-addled, his eyes barely focusing, Reid had not even managed to get a coherent thought formed, when Derek, realizing he'd fooled around too long, swiftly pulled his hand out of his pocket and plunged the needle full of heavy sedative deep into Reid's neck…..

Detective Green glanced at the clock on the wall of the police station. 7:00am. Shit. He'd had to work late on Saturday night, had gone home for a few hours sleep, and was now back at his desk, working on his second cup of coffee. The tired detective's gaze returned to the open file on his desk. The coroner's report for his first murder victim yesterday had arrived sometime overnight. It was a pretty cut and dry case; the victim had died from a gunshot wound to the head. Green studied the tattoos covering the man's body, and knew he would have to get the gang unit involved in finding the killer. He had had no trouble finding out the identity of this victim, as the man had a rap sheet the length of Detective Green's whole body. In fact, he was a suspect in another murder himself, so Green didn't figure it'd take very long to discover who had decided on some street justice. Unfortunately, just because he knew the case wouldn't be hard to solve, it was all of the paperwork involved that was pain in his butt.

Green heaved a deep sigh, and pulled the other file over towards him. This murder victim was going to be a nightmare to identify, if they ever did, never mind figure out who'd done it. Flipping through the coroner's report, the detective read pretty much what he had been expecting to find. Excessive blunt force trauma with a variety of objects, no DNA left anywhere on the body, a mixture of deep and shallow cuts on the fingers and all four limbs, predictable conclusion of excessive torture, face unidentifiable with skull shattered, splinters of skull imbedded in the brain. Green was very surprised to read that none of that was what ultimately killed the poor man; he had actually died of a deadly toxin, which hadn't been identified yet, injected into his neck. Along with pictures of each wound, the coroner had included a picture of the entry site, a tiny pin prick. Green shook his head, 'Imagine the poor bastard lived through all of that pain and suffering, all of the torture, just to be taken down by a tiny jab.'

Suddenly, something added as a note, made Green sit up straight in his chair. Rereading the description and examining the accompanying pictures closely, Green felt a flicker of excitement. The victim, the coroner had discovered, had the word REID scratched into the sole of his foot. The letters were very small, barely a1/4 of an inch, and the cuts were extremely shallow; but the word, or rather the name, was there. And according to the autopsy, it had been done post-mortem, so obviously meant something extremely important to the killer. Which meant it was something vitally important to Detective Green. The question was, what?


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

As he drove down the highway, Derek Danger enjoyed the sense of euphoria that flooded through him. His plan had been a complete success; even the momentary aberration when his 'boyfriend' had begun to wake up hadn't impeded his actions in any way. Derek had given himself one and 1/2 hours to complete the retrieval, and he had taken just over an hour, from the moment he started to disassemble the locks on the apartment door, to the moment he turned the key to relock that same door behind him.

Glancing once again at his rear-view mirror, he smiled as he saw the rolled up comforter sitting on his back seat. He had at first planned to carry it home in the trunk of his car, but the thought of not being able to see the precious bundle as he drove back home, was too depressing. He had been looking forward to 'playing' with the prize that was hidden inside it for a week; hiding it away, even for a few hours, could not be endured.

Derek drove carefully, not wanting to attract the attention of the police by speeding, or disobeying any driving rules. He congratulated himself once again, as he chuckled over how easy it had been to remove his 'Mr. Perfect' from the apartment without notice. It had been providence that just last week he'd watched an old movie on television, that showed kidnappers lowering their victim down to the ground from a window, thus confounding the police about how the person had been removed from the room. Derek, who had been overjoyed to learn his 'Reid' only lived on the fourth floor, had had no problems lowering the comforter over the balcony with a rope, letting himself out of the apartment, relocking the doors with the young man's own keys, and rushing down to retrieve his treasure. Fortunately, his 'boyfriends' balcony had been at the back of the building, so there had been no chance of being seen from anyone on the street at 4:00am. Derek had taken this as another sign that this man was his 'Mr. Perfect'; that Fate meant for Derek to have him; that he was destined to be Derek's 'boyfriend', his personal possession...

"Hotch, man, you look like shit" Morgan stated bluntly, as Hotch sat down in the hotel cafe.

The whole team was gathered at the table, needing to eat breakfast before they began what would most likely turn out to be another very long day. They were still trying to find the Unsub who was murdering the elderly women in Atlanta; unfortunately they hadn't gotten any firm leads thus far. Hotch, who had been the last one to show up, had hoped they could float a few new ideas around as they shared a team meal; sometimes the best ideas were formulated outside of the meeting rooms and station houses. As the waitress poured him a cup of coffee, Hotch quickly scanned the menu. So far he had not acknowledged the others at the table in any way, not even Morgan, causing everyone to dart their eyes at each other and shift a bit in their chairs. For Hotch to not respond to Morgan's comment, to not even say good morning to anyone, was definitely a bad sign.

Prentiss, Morgan and JJ knew Hotch was still extremely angry about what had happened to Reid. They knew their punishments had not been completely determined yet for their hideous actions, and all of them felt they probably deserved whatever Hotch decided to do. They knew what they had done, even though they had had no intention of hurting Reid in any way, would likely damage their sensitive colleague. Morgan, especially, knew that his 'little brother' was hurting tremendously; he knew better than the others, just how deep Reid's insecurities ran.

But, so far, during this case, that incident had been pushed to the background. Necessity dictated that the team act as a cohesive unit, communicating freely with each other, in order to find their perpetrator. Which made Hotch's continuing silence right now, very unnerving. They wondered, was Hotch thinking about the case, or the video incident?

Rossi, who was the only one on the team who knew about Hotch's gut feeling regarding Reid, studied his friend. The dark bags under Hotch's eyes gave testament to the fact that he wasn't sleeping well; his complete silence, Rossi knew, meant Hotch's mind was unwaveringly concentrating on an issue. Rossi suspected Hotch's demeanour had nothing to do with the Atlanta case, or the video, and everything to do with Reid's well being. Making a mental note to privately speak to Aaron as soon as he could, Rossi started to talk about the current case, pulling the team's attention to him and away from the silent, brooding Hotch. Rossi knew, if he let the others start worrying again about the whole Reid fiasco and Hotch's eventual response to it, the team would be ineffectual, the group would start to unravel.

As they began to banter ideas around, Rossi glanced again at Hotch, wondering whether he would join in the conversation or not. He was starting to worry about Hotch; he had never known him to be so unfocused during a case, even after all of the Foyet business. Just then, Hotch's cell phone rang; moments later the team left the cafe, there had been another murder...

Carrying the rolled up comforter into his living room, Derek gently placed it in the middle of the carpet. He was anxious to unroll it, releasing his greatest reward. But because he had been obeying the speed limits, it had taken him longer to drive home than he expected. He already had one punishment for eating late deferred, he didn't want to have to add to its intensity and duration by having his whole morning routine behind schedule. As he headed towards his bathroom, Derek wondered if he should move the comforter and its contents down to the basement. Then he shook his head; he wanted to unwrap his present up here, where the daylight streaming in the windows would give him a chance to see every inch, every detail, clearly.

Nearly two hours later, Derek was finally ready to continue. Since it was Sunday, he didn't have to work; he would have the whole day to concentrate on his new 'boyfriend.' He knelt beside the rolled comforter, his whole body shaking slightly with excitement. All of his plans had fallen into place perfectly, and now he had the ultimate prize, his heart's desire. Derek felt himself salivating as he let his imagination run wild over all of the 'fun' he was going to have over the next few weeks. Very slowly, drawing out the suspense, he untied the knotted rope that kept the comforter in place.

As the rope loosened, then fell away, Derek felt a surge of joy; finally he would be able to see his 'Reid' in the flesh; watch him, hear him, touch him, taste him, and best of all, 'teach' him. Derek's hands and fingers tingled, as he thought of all of the ways he would 'correct' the handsome young man during the educating. He started to unroll the material, his eyes ablaze with longing; his body craving the feel of the thin body, the smooth skin of the vision from the video; his mind cracking slightly, as the exhilaration of finally getting his ultimate possession became almost overwhelming.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Derek Danger slowly unrolled the comforter, finally exposing the limp form of the heavily drugged Dr. Spencer Reid. Derek hissed in a breath, his eyes wide, drinking in the beauty of his new 'boyfriend'; his first time seeing his 'Reid' in full light was an event he knew he would remember forever.

Derek dampened down his immediate urge to rip the blue pyjamas off of the slender body in front of him, and immediately 'take' what was rightfully his, what the Fates had decreed was his destiny. But Derek knew that course of action was most definitely against the rules, and the punishment would be absolutely unbearable. Besides, he told himself, this one, this 'Mr. Perfect' was going to be savoured slowly, like a fine wine; Derek was going to let himself thoroughly enjoy each and every step of the educating and 'breaking in' process.

Derek just knew he was meant to possess this gorgeous man for as long as possible; and the rules dictated that his 'boyfriend' must be completely compliant, totally broken in, before he could claim his ultimate, desperately desired prize. 'I wonder if I'll be getting his cherry?' Derek pondered to himself, as he licked his lips in anticipation of the future glorious times he was going to have with his 'Reid'.

Letting himself fantasize about how he was going to enjoy the preliminary 'lessons' that would be taught in the days ahead, he felt his body stirring once more, his mind filling with images of his previous 'boyfriends.' Many of those men had only lasted a couple of days before they proved inadequate and had to be disposed of. A few had not made it through the education, had been weak and died on him. Previously, the longest a 'boyfriend' had lasted was three months; Derek had thought he was 'Mr. Perfect' right up until the last day; but in the end he had proved as inadequate as all the rest.

But this one, this delightful specimen of manhood that lay before him, Derek just knew, in his gut, that this one was IT. This one was going to last for a long time, he could feel it. Derek was going to take his time with this handsome young man, relish each new lesson he taught him, take pleasure in every sound and movement his 'Reid' made, really appreciate this slender body. And, since he was Derek's 'Mr. Right', hopefully Derek would be able to delight in his new 'boyfriend's' mind too; Derek hoped his 'Reid' was intelligent, as most of the others had been completely boring when he let them talk to him.

Derek knew he needed to get his new 'boyfriend' downstairs before he woke up; that was one of the very first rules. Derek gazed down at the sleeping Reid, and felt an overwhelming rush of heat flow through him. His mind switched off, his instincts kicked in, and before he knew it, he was completely nude and had pulled his 'Reid' into his arms, urgently pressing his body against the thin young man. "STOP" Derek shouted at himself, flinging the unconscious Reid away, and moving back a few feet. Reid landed heavily on the floor, his arms flung wide.

Derek, breathing heavily, took a few minutes to recapture his calm, his mind grasping for its usual controlled thought processes. For a brief moment, Derek wondered in it would be too dangerous for him to keep his 'Reid,' as so far he seemed to be causing Derek to break rules left and right. Derek soon suppressed that idea, the man on the floor was his, HIS; he would just have to try harder to maintain control of himself.

Derek slowly approached Reid, kicking him softly in the hip, confirming he was still asleep. An idea took shape as he knelt once more beside his new 'plaything.' He had recently discovered a new hobby, posting photos on the Internet, and he frantically wanted to have some kind of interaction with his new 'boyfriend' before he took him downstairs. After forcing his mind to slow down, to make sure he wouldn't be breaking any rules, Derek went to his pants to retrieve his camera phone and his penknife.

Holding the phone in place, he quickly snapped a picture of Reid's mouth, being careful not to have any other facial parts in the frame that might lead to him being identified. Then, smiling wide, he pinched Reid's lower lip between his index finger and thumb, pressing them together as hard as he could. After snapping another photo, he bent down, his face mere inches from Reid's; giving into temptation once again, Derek gently kissed the bulging lip between his digits. Instantly, he sat up and slapped his own face, hard, ten times. Berating himself for his lack of self-control, he once again wondered if maybe his 'Mr. Right' would prove to be too dangerous for him.

After pacing the living room for a few minutes, talking non-stop to himself, debating the pros and cons of this new adventure, he decided he would take the chance, he had to have this beautiful man, it was his Fate-given right to have him. Breathing shallowly now, keeping his mind firmly under control, Derek knelt down, repinched Reid's lower lip, and carefully stuck the tip of his penknife into the soft middle. Watching the lovely blood bubble that rapidly formed, Derek took a photo; then held the pinch for another fifteen minutes. When he finally released Reid's tortured lip, he smiled, 'That will be a pretty, bruised pout tomorrow.'

Derek took one last photo, went to his computer, and spent the next few minutes posting the array of pictures on his favourite kink sites. He stayed in front of the computer for quite a while, relishing the comments that began to pour in for his pictures. He knew his 'Reid' would be a big hit; he couldn't wait to post more pictures of 'Mr. Perfect', happy in the knowledge that only he, Derek Danger, had the honour and privilege of owning the young man everyone wanted.

Since he was still naked, Derek decided he had denied his needs long enough, he was going to 'take care' of himself. He had totally regained his self-control now, so kept away from the motionless body on the floor. He plugged his computer into his custom made speakers, and brought up his favourite video. As the commentary started, he cranked up his speakers to full blast; soon the moans and gasps from the Vision in the video filled the room.

Although he stayed at his computer desk, Derek kept his head moving, first watching the young man writhing on the bed on his computer screen, then watching that same young man glowing in the sunlight in the middle of his living room. Derek moaned and groaned along with the video, totally content, ecstatic in the knowledge that soon he would be watching a live performance of this exact same activity. 'Life is good' he thought, as he continued to have his fun...

Reid could hear someone. Someone was in his apartment. He tried to open his eyes, but the ability to move even his eyelids seemed beyond him at the moment. 'Who was it he could hear?' For some reason, his head seemed to be stuffed with cotton balls; his mind unable to focus clearly, unable to tell him who was there, what was going on.

Drifting, swimming in the clouds, maybe he was dreaming. Then he heard Morgan's voice, next Prentiss's. 'What are they doing in my room? Why have they come here?' Floating along, his mind wandered, pushing against the blackness that seemed to descend around him like a blanket.

Reid tried to open his eyes again, no success. He tried to open his mouth, call out to Morgan and ask him what he wanted. 'My mouth hurts', for an instant his mind registered pain. Soft pillows muffled his ears, the voices retreated. 'They must be leaving.' Suddenly, he could hear moans; someone was hurt, in pain. 'Who's moaning in my apartment?' Reid could hear another moan, a different groan. 'Why are you groaning? What's wrong?'

As the long tendrils of darkness wrapped themselves around his mind again, as he slipped once more into the peaceful abyss, he asked himself 'Why am I moaning?'


	15. Chapter 15

**NOTE: Thanks for all of the great reviews. I'm so glad people are enjoying this story.**

**Chapter 15**

"What do you think, Pete?" Detective Green spoke to the older detective, while he poured himself yet another cup of the stale stationhouse coffee. Detective Pete Hanson, a thirty year veteran, added sugar to his cup, stirring slowly.

"Well, if you've run the name through the system, you might want start going through some of the paper files for any references to the name Reid, or for crimes that involve the same kind of marking." Detective Hanson sipped his coffee, glad he wasn't stuck with the frustrating case Green had landed; he had had his fill of unsolvable mysteries, and was counting the months until his, in his mind, well-deserved retirement. But he liked the younger detective, admired the way he never gave up on his most difficult cases, and wanted to advise him if he could.

"Maybe you should call the FBI" Hanson suggested, "They would be able to run the name through the larger databases, maybe get a hit in another state." Because the headquarters of the FBI was just down the road in Quantico, Virginia, the homicide detectives at their station had no qualms in calling in for help when they hit a dry patch during their investigations. In fact, their superiors were starting to get complaints from the FBI brass about misuse of Bureau resources, and had started to crack down on detectives making the requests.

Green made a face; he never liked to go outside for help, and calling the FBI, in his opinion, would be like admitting he couldn't do his own job. "Well, maybe later, after I've tried out a few other lines of inquiry" Green answered, knowing it would take a lot more frustrating dead ends before he would make a call to Quantico.

Detective Green made his way back to his desk, searching his memory for any recent cases he had heard of that included a name carved into the corpse. Nothing sprang to mind, so he logged back into his computer, ran a list of recent homicides for the last six months that involved torture to male victims, and went to the storage room to retrieve the numerous files...

Rossi watched Morgan circling the conference room, pacing like a trapped lion in a cage. He had been concerned about his colleague all day; the pressure of this case, along with the continuing guilt about Reid, and the extreme frustration of Reid's silence, were finally becoming too much for the young man to control. Knowing Morgan was teetering on the edge, and knowing Hotch was also ready for a confrontation soon, due to his own overwhelming emotions, Rossi decided he had better separate the pair of alpha males before the situation took a turn for the worse.

"Morgan, can I have a word please. I want to run something by you." Rossi spoke to Morgan in a calm, controlled voice, friendly in tone.

Hotch turned to face Rossi, "You can speak to him here Dave. You know we work as an open team." Hotch face darkened, his razor-thin control slipping as the man he considered a close friend, tried to speak privately with one of the agents Hotch was currently absolutely furious with. Hotch, fighting his own irrational, mounting fear for Reid, was ready to lash out at any provocation; Rossi's perceived 'alliance with the enemy', so to speak, was quickly turning into Hotch's last straw.

Prentiss kept herself turned towards the victim board; she knew the men of the group were spoiling for a fight, of which she wanted absolutely no part in. JJ quietly left the room, unable to bear the high emotions, needing to once again dry her eyes privately in the washroom.

Rossi spoke softly, trying to cool the suddenly hot atmosphere that filled the room. "Hotch, I just think a little air would help clear my head, and I wanted Morgan to talk to me about a similar case he worked on a few years ago when he was a cop. That's all, no other reason. We'll just be about a half hour. Maybe a little break all round is what we all need. Just thirty minutes."

Rossi indicated with a head motion that Morgan should follow him out. Morgan, standing still, glaring at everyone in turn, turned and rushed through the open door, fighting down his anger, and a enveloping wave of frustration. Rossi spoke softly, "Take a small break, Aaron. Clear your head for a bit. We'll solve this case, I'm sure of it. Then we'll solve our other issue. I'm sure of that too."

Hotch heaved a sigh once the door was closed. Prentiss turned her head slightly, saw Hotch sit down, cradling his head in his hands, then slowly left the room, wondering if the BAU team would ever be a cohesive team again. Feeling lonely, and vulnerable, two emotions that were usually alien to her, Prentiss went in search of JJ.

Rossi and Morgan walked for two blocks, at a fast pace, before Morgan turned to Rossi to ask which case he had been referring to, because he couldn't remember a similar one from his days as a cop in Chicago. "There was no case, I just wanted to get you out of there before you did something stupid and jeopardized your whole career." Morgan's face turned beet red at Rossi's words, as he made a threatening step towards the older agent.

"What, now you're going to hit me? Well, rather me than Hotch, who in his current frame of mind, could probably do as much damage to you as you could do to me right now." Rossi's voice stayed calm and neutral, as he tried to calm his friend down.

Morgan suddenly became aware of what he was doing, and visibly slumped. Rossi kept walking, stopping at a bench in the nearby parkette. Sitting, he patiently waited for Morgan to join him. "I know this case is frustrating. When the victims are the innocent, children and the elderly, it makes the crime that much more unbearable. But we cannot do our best work if we stay so unfocused. I know everyone is worried about Reid, beyond worried. And yes, damage has been done, immense damage. Unfortunately, with Reid deciding to keep us all away, we can't know yet how much harm has actually taken place. The thing is, until he will see or at least talk to someone, there is nothing we can do." Rossi watched Morgan carefully, still seeing only rage in his eyes; in fact it was radiating off of him in waves.

"I'll be perfectly honest with you Morgan, I think what you four did to Reid was the most vile thing I have ever heard of, even before it ended up on the Internet. And if I was Reid, I would never forgive any of you. But that's me, and I am certainly no Spencer Reid. From what I've seen of him, I think, eventually he will forgive you, his friends, but it's going to take time. Somehow, you are going to have to start to forgive yourself. It's the only way you'll be able to do your job, keep your job, keep from exploding at the wrong person. I know you love that skinny kid, I know the whole team does. And I know the guilt is like a thousand knives in your head and your guts. But the BAU needs to stick together right now; it needs your strength to keep it together. Reid will need your strength to keep himself together, once he reconnects with us." Rossi flicked a glance at Morgan, happy to finally see the tears in his eyes that he had been waiting for. Rossi knew if Morgan didn't start releasing some of his pent up emotions, he was going to hurt someone.

"Rossi, man, you don't understand. That's my boy, my little brother. How could I have betrayed him like that? It's sick. I just want to, to,... I don't even know what." Morgan's voice trembled with suppressed emotion, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. He wiped them angrily, then slammed his fist into his palm.

"Of all the people in the world, I never, never wanted to hurt Reid. Now we have, I have. How will he take it? How will he handle it? How will he ever forgive us? Why won't he talk to us?" Morgan's voice tailed off, his throat now choked with tears of shame, frustration and anger.

Rossi, although still upset with Morgan about the video, felt sorry for him too. "All of that will be discovered and taken care of eventually. Right now, all we can do is keep trying to contact Reid, hope he will soon respond. You know, as well as I do, that he has always handled his issues by himself, so we just have to be patient while he comes to terms with what's happened and decides to let us in. I know it's hard, but we have no other options. In the meantime, we do have a difficult case to solve, and we need to focus on that."

Rossi stood up, then decided he had better add something else, "By the way, it's probably best if you keep a bit of distance between you and Hotch right now. He's also extremely concerned about Reid, and is a bit oversensitive at the moment." As they walked back to the police station, Rossi prayed they would solve this case soon; if Hotch and Morgan didn't soon get to properly address what had happened to Reid, the inevitable explosion was going to very messy...

Derek Danger hummed with happiness as he slipped into his clothes. He had just finished lunch, which he had brazenly eaten in the nude, and was finally going to take his 'prize' to the basement rooms. Derek gazed down at his 'Reid', love and lust blazing from his eyes. 'God' he thought 'He's so beautiful.' Derek felt his body start to respond again; quickly turning around to face the opposite wall while he did up his buttons.

Derek knew his new 'boyfriend' was dangerous; he knew he was going to have to be hypervigilent about sticking to the rules of the house. Derek had had to punish himself numerous times already, as well as having a deferred punishment still to be endured, due to this new possession. "But it's all worth it. Everything. More than worth it." Derek said out loud, once again turning his eyes to the gorgeous young man unconscious on his floor.

Derek calculated the length of time Reid had been drugged; he figured the sedative would be starting to wear off soon. Picking up the limp form, Derek hugged it to his body tightly, as he moved swiftly through the house and down the cellar stairs. Turning into the first room on the right, Derek gently placed his precious treasure onto the cot that was bolted to the floor. Carefully placing the comforter over the sleeping man, Derek once again could not resist running his fingers through his soft hair. Derek moaned, his need to do more overwhelming his self-control.

Moving back a few feet, panting, Derek wrestled with his emotions; finally regaining control once he had pressed his nails into his sensitive inner elbow and had drawn blood. Returning to the cot, Derek quickly completed the next required steps; happy to return upstairs where he could feel in complete command of himself again. Derek realized the initial stages were going to be very hard on him; he just could not keep himself in check when around his 'Reid'. As Derek started his usual Saturday afternoon routine, he started to formulate ways he could follow the rules, while also fully enjoy all of the delicious things he intended to do with his new 'plaything' during each step of the educating...

'Something's wrong with my foot.' The thought circled around Reid's groggy mind, as he struggled to focus. 'Why hasn't my alarm gone off yet?' 'Have I missed my plane? Why is my mouth hurting?' Reid's mind began to spin, questions darting in and out. Yet, for some reason, he just could not seem to wake up. His eyelids were heavy, like lead; his head was heavy, pressing into the pillow as if cemented in place. Reid moved his foot again, once more wondering why it felt as if it were attached to something. Reid heard himself moan, as he tried moving various other body parts. Each time was a supreme effort; the struggle eventually became too much; Reid let himself relax and drift.

'My mom will be so surprised to see me' he thought, 'I'm glad I decided not to let her know I was coming.' Unnoticed hours passed; then Reid tried once more to open his eyes, wanting to check his clock and confirm he hadn't slept through his alarm. Slowly, concentrating, he opened his eyes.

And his nightmare began.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Silence. Complete silence. So silent, the weight of it seemed to press his chest into the bed. Reid had finally been able to corral his wandering thoughts, had started to realize that something was definitely not right. And as he slowly opened his eyes, the absolute silence finally penetrated his brain.

Reid hated silence; it scared him, almost as much as the dark. Silence meant death, sound meant life; it was something Reid felt, had believed in, since he was a very young child. His mother's silence had always indicated a new round of psychosis was brewing, so Reid had made sure to fill their house with noise, any kind of noise, hoping it would prevent the inevitable. As an adult, he still adhered to this belief; he refused to have silence in his home because it might lead to the inevitable, the one thing he was absolutely terrified of, his own mind turning on him.

This was one of the main reasons he kept an aquarium filled with exotic fish, so the electric water pump would provide a constant background hum. At night, when his mind sometimes raced too far ahead of him, it was therapeutic to watch the beautiful, colourful fish and listen to the hum; it often soothed him to sleep, like a mother crooning a lullaby. But now, there was only silence.

As his eyes took a moment to focus, Reid felt the first tiny fingers of fear start to bloom in his gut. 'Why is it taking so long for my eyes to work properly?' his still foggy brain asked itself. 'Why is it so quiet?' Reid's eyes, finally wide open, noted instantly that he was not in the dark. For a moment, relief flooded through him, as he recognized the faint illumination that his nightlight gave off. This feeling was fleeting, as he realized the nightlight was in the room with him, and not in its regular position out in the hallway.

Although afraid he might not get them open again, Reid forced himself to close his eyes; he needed to concentrate on refocusing his mind, lift it out of the unknown haze that seemed to be enveloping his brain. Reid took a couple of deep breaths; happy the sound broke the silence a bit. Then, trying to ignore for the moment the fear that was gathering steam in his stomach region, he started to think logically.

'I'm in my pyjamas. I recognize the material against my skin.' Moving his hand slightly, he thought, 'I have my comforter over me. I recognize the feel, and the weight of it.' Reid started to feel a little more confident now that he was regaining control of his thoughts. He made himself wriggle his fingers and his toes, happy to do so; but he let himself ignore for the moment the weight he felt against his right ankle. His mind jumped away from acknowledging that obvious sign of trouble.

Suddenly, Reid had the overwhelming urge to vomit. He was afraid to reopen his eyes. The fingers of fear in his stomach now scraped his insides to shreds with their sharp nails. Reid heard himself give a tiny, desperate whimper. He knew, he knew when he opened his eyes he was not going to see his room, his bed, his apartment. Reid broke out in a cold sweat, his heart starting to race as he struggled with himself; knowing he had to look, had to face what was happening, he had no other choice.

Another, very quiet whimper escaped before he gathered enough strength to once again open his eyes. This time the first thing he saw was a low ceiling of dark square panels, which he studied for a moment recognizing them as sound proofing material. Morgan had once taken him and Garcia to see one of the houses he was renovating, and had shown them the sound proofing he used in basement dens, as this was always a good selling point, especially for families with teenagers. 'So, I'm in a basement.'

Reid felt his mind start to scatter again, 'Why? Who did this? Why? Why me? Why? Help! Help!' Panic rose again, his body now drenched with cold sweat, fear roiling through his stomach causing him to wrap his arms across his torso, clutching his sides, folding into himself.

Once again, Reid forced himself to take deep breaths. By now he realized the difficulty focusing his thoughts was due to a sedative, and he knew the oppressive silence was working against him as well. His mind flitting from one thing to the next, Reid let it land on some of the discussions he had had with Gideon after he had been kidnapped by Tobias Hankle. Gideon told him to always keep the thoughts of rescue and escape first and foremost, never let your brain accept the idea that the situation was permanent, never give up the fight for freedom no matter what happened.

Quietly Reid whispered, "I'm going to turn my head. I have to take note of my surroundings so I can start to plan my escape." Hearing his own voice helped to calm his nerves a bit; stating his intentions of escaping seemed to lift the panic slightly, his racing heart began to slow considerably. Taking one last deep breath, still afraid, Reid slowly turned to head so he could study the room.

Instinctively he sought out his nightlight, eternally grateful for its familiar glow, noting it was plugged into the wall to his left, beside a straight-back wooden chair. Next he noted there was a second matching chair, and a small wooden table between them. The table was affixed to the floor, the chairs attached to the baseboards by chains, like in a furniture store showroom. Reid fought the temptation to close his eyes again, he was determined to continue his visual investigation. Ignoring the tendrils of dread now threading throughout his body from the raging fear in his gut, Reid shifted his eyes across the room until they landed on a set of canvas partitions. The rest of the room was completely bare, save for the bed he was laying on.

Reid tilted his head up, seeing the light fixture in the middle of the ceiling; then flicked his eyes left to right, searching for any indication of a camera. He didn't see the familiar red light, but the woodwork around the edge of the ceiling was ornate, and he knew that any part of the decoration could conceal one; in fact Reid knew the likelihood, based on statistics, of him being recorded in this room was too high to be ignored. Reid remembered when Tobias had recorded him; he had been able to use that fact to help the team find him. Except this time there was no team.

Tears filled Reid's eyes. No team. No one to know he was missing. No one to search for him. He was alone. Reid felt a scream race up his throat, ready to echo around the room. He quickly shoved his fist into his mouth; he couldn't risk it, whoever had kidnapped him might be listening. Gulping down his rising panic, Reid took a few shuddering breaths, trying to stop his trembling body from falling into a complete debilitating anxiety attack. 'I have to keep myself together, stay focused, stay strong' he thought.

Reid knew it was time; he had to acknowledge what he felt on his right leg. Moving his still slightly shaking hands slowly, he felt for the sides of the bed. He could tell, as he moved them down, that he was actually on a canvas cot; he also finally realized his head was on his own pillow from home which gave him a tiny feeling of comfort. Reid's right hand had gone as far as it could, so he slowly drew up his leg. Knowing what he was going to find didn't stop the trepidation he felt as he brushed his fingers down to his ankle; the shackle was leather, the chain attached thin and long. Reid's hand shook uncontrollably now, his hard-earned self-control splintering like a dropped plate.

'I'm chained to the bed. I'm chained to the bed. I'm chained to the bed.' The thought tore through his brain, flinging aside all other rational thoughts. It overwhelmed his mind, it caused a stream of acidic fluid to rise up and burn his throat, it caused his body to shake so hard he nearly levitated off of the bed. His mind, which had had so much to deal with for the last week, was swamped. It was too much; his internal defences had been depleted by the video incident, the team's betrayal, his job loss, his anger, his loneliness, his enforced solitude. Reid's mind was close to collapse.

Just before his brain decided it was time to retreat, as the black shadows began gathering to smother him down into oblivion, Reid whispered into the silent room, "Hotch, please help me."


	17. Chapter 17

**NOTE: My apologies for the unavoidable delay in posting; have had a horrendously bad month, healthwise; hopefully back on track now. A huge thank you for your wonderful reviews last chapter.**

**Chapter 17**

Elvis Presley's plea for someone to love him tender echoed throughout Derek Danger's house. Derek always prepared his Sunday supper listening to the King of Rock and Roll; it wasn't a house rule, but had been part of his regular routine since he was a teenager. In fact, Derek pondered as he chopped carrots, Elvis had been playing the night his mother had taken so ill. She had gasped out her last breath as Derek stood beside her bed, quietly singing "You ain't nothing but a hound dog, crying all the time" while he waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Derek smiled at the memory. Finishing up the carrots, he turned to prepare the potatoes. Sunday supper meant steak, potatoes and carrots, and tonight he had decided to add onions to his steak; a rare treat, allowed only on special occasions. 'And' he thought to himself, 'There is nothing more special than finally bringing home Mr. Right, Mr. Perfect.' Derek felt a thrill of happiness tingle around his body as he turned his mind to the gorgeous young man currently chained downstairs. His 'Reid.' Derek started peeling the potatoes faster as he pictured his 'boyfriend' lying on the living room floor while Derek pleasured himself. He had looked so handsome, so young, so vulnerable. Derek felt himself start to heat up again at the memory, and forced himself to turn his mind away. He couldn't afford to break any more rules today; he wanted to have some fun with his new toy tonight and didn't want to marred by punishment marks...

Detective Pete Hanson sat at his desk twirling his pen. Most of his younger colleagues did their files on computer now, printing off sheets as they were needed; but Detective Hanson was old school. He handwrote his files, letting the clerks key them into the system later. His superiors had tried everything to get him to change, but he stubbornly resisted. The clerks, on the other hand, were happy to help, as he was very generous to them during the holiday season. Hanson had been thinking about Detective Green's case all afternoon; the description of the crime had twigged a slight memory of an old cold case.

Detective Hanson was trying to remember which case was scratching at his brain; there were too many cold cases to look up each one individually, and he had a feeling this one was from years back. ``It really sucks to get old`` he said out loud, to no one in particular. Hanson closed his eyes and methodically went over in his mind everything Green had told him about his crime scene. Hanson let himself mull over each wound, each form of torture that had been inflicted on the hapless victim. Something about this crime scene, this victim, mirrored one of his old cases, he was absolutely certain now. And as Detective Hanson tried to recall all of his unsolved murder cases over the last thirty years, he actually felt himself starting to feel the old anticipation, excitement, he used to years ago...

The red wine was poured, the table was set, the bread was sliced. Everything for Sunday supper was ready, and Derek was in a quandary. Normally, Derek`s new `friends` were brought to the basement rooms on Friday or Saturday; this meant Sunday supper would be the first meal that they would be allowed to eat upstairs, if they were still physically capable of climbing the stairs by then. It was one of the rewards offered during the educating; so Derek had found over the years it was best to let the man experience it early on; that way he would know what an excellent reward it was to strive for later.

But his new `boyfriend`, his `Mr. Perfect` was completely different. He had been obtained in the wee hours of Sunday morning, which meant it was too soon for a meal upstairs. Derek wracked his brain, trying to figure out if a house rule would be broken if his new `boyfriend` stayed downstairs for this meal; although he eagerly anticipated getting to punish his new possession for breaking rules, he didn`t want to have to hurt that delectable body unfairly, he wasn`t that unkind. Suddenly it hit him, technically it was his `Reid`s` first meal, which meant it had to be served downstairs. Derek decided this rule could definitely overwrite the first Sunday supper in the dining room rule, thus avoiding discipline. Happy now, Derek continued with the meal preparation, singing happily along with Elvis, wiggling his hips in time with the music...

Hotch sat in the hotel cafe with the rest of the team, idly picking at a salad. He had no appetite; his stomach had been in knots all day. The latest elderly victim of their serial killer had been the worst yet; the killer seemed to know the FBI were in town looking for him, and had done some extra damage to the poor woman before killing her. Morgan had been so angry, Hotch had had to send him out of the house, which had really pissed him off. Hotch knew he and Morgan were both working with wire-thin nerves right now; he also knew if it wasn`t for Rossi being around to mollify everyone, keep things relatively cooled down, he and Morgan would have already come to fisticuffs.

Hotch grimaced as his stomach gave another twinge, his gut felt like it was on fire. As he put down his fork, abandoning any pretence at actually eating the salad, he glanced up to find Rossi gazing at him. Rossi was the only one who knew of Hotch`s gut feelings about Reid; Hotch knew Rossi would be expecting to speak to him privately after the dinner about his escalating fear. Because Hotch knew, just knew, something had happened to Reid. He didn`t know why he knew, didn`t know what had happened; but all week he had had a bad feeling about the team`s youngest member. And ever since last night, that feeling had magnified a hundredfold; was now a horrific feeling about the sensitive, vulnerable Spencer Reid.

But Hotch knew there was nothing he could do right now. They were immersed in this case; and if Reid wouldn`t communicate with them, well, Hotch couldn`t really force him to. So, until they got back to Quantico, and until Reid returned his calls, his hands were tied. Hotch sighed, causing the team to glance over at their silent leader. Hotch, his brows lowered, his lips tightened, his face stern, glared back; all eyes dropped to their own plates, each team member relosing themselves in their own thoughts...

The edges of Reid`s mind bowed inward as he started to regain consciousness. For some reason, he began to relive a fond memory of his childhood; a memory of his mother and he spending a wonderful day together, when he was around eleven. His mother had had a very bad episode, it lasted a week. Then all of a sudden it was gone; she had woken him up early and had seemed completely normal. Reid had been overjoyed to have his wonderful mother back, had eagerly agreed to skip school and spend the day with her. Diana Reid had taken her son down to the Las Vegas strip that day and they had a ball. His mother was very well spoken, and persuasive, when she was doing well; Reid had gotten into places and shows that were normally only for adults, had actually seen his first pair of real live naked breasts at one of the cabarets.

Then in the evening, Reid and his beloved mother had gone to see one of the Elvis Presley impersonators. Reid had enjoyed the show, the man had been excellent; but more than that, Reid had been ecstatic that his mother had loved the show. She had quietly sung all of the songs along with the entertainer, her eyes had shined with inner happiness, and Reid had felt such joy, such peace. After the show, they had managed to get backstage, where his mother got her picture taken with the impersonator, her face glowing delight; Reid kept it in his nightstand, it was his most precious possession.

Reid`s brain, continuing its swim to consciousness, reluctantly turned away from that sweet memory, wondering why it had popped to the surface at this time. Reid`s eyelids fluttered open, his mind filling with memories of a few hours ago when he had first come to in this basement room. Reid, trying to maintain control of his emotions, made himself whisper, ``I`ve been kidnapped. I`m in a basement room. I`m chained to a cot.`` Keeping his breathing even, his mind focused, he then whispered, ``Nobody knows I`m missing. I need to profile my kidnapper as soon as possible. I need to devise an escape plan.`` Hearing himself, Reid began to feel in control; his emotions were being kept at bay, logical thinking was being maintained. Still lying in the cot under his comforter from home, Reid began once again to study his surroundings, making mental notes to be used later when he started planning.

Suddenly he heard the sound of a door being opened, then footsteps slowly walking down a set of stairs. Reid began to tremble slightly, panic starting to seep through him. The footsteps stopped directly outside of the door opposite his cot, as far as he could tell; silence once again surrounded him. Reid concentrated on breathing normally, forced his mind to stay sharp and watched the door, ready to study whoever came through.

Slowly the door of the room opened. Reid had only a moment to register the fact that he could hear Elvis Presley singing in the background, before his brain processed what his eyes were seeing, flooding him with fear.

``Hello Reid.``


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 **

From his prone position on the cot, the figure in the doorway appeared huge to Reid. In the dim half-light provided by his nightlight, Reid could not quite make out features on the face, but what he could see were very large muscles on a very bare torso. "Hello Reid" his kidnapper said, his tone of voice making the hairs on the back of Reid's neck stand straight up.

Derek Danger stood in the doorway for a moment, inhaling one of his favourite scents, fear. The smell of it permeated the room, just like it always did when the new boyfriends first came home. Derek wished he could bottle it and wear it as aftershave. He took a deep breath, and felt his groin respond to the stimulating odour. Derek couldn't wait until he could begin the educating; he knew during those times the smell of fear would be intoxicatingly strong. The anticipation of those delights was also reflected in the bulge in his pants.

Suddenly, Reid was blinded as the uncovered light in the middle of the ceiling was turned on. Blinking like an owl, Reid tried to refocus his eyes. Moments later, he wished he hadn't. The man, his captor, had closed the door behind him, and now stood silently, just staring intensely at Reid. Well, a more apt description would probably be, devouring Reid with his blue eyes. Reid's own doe eyes widened as he got a good look at the man he would be trying to escape from.

Reid's captor was a mountain of a man. Reid could tell he was definitely taller than his own 6'1''; he had very short hair on his head, but no hair anywhere else on the parts of his body Reid could see, which was quite a lot, as he only wore pants. Reid's eyes flitted over to the man's obvious pant bulge, and his brain instructed him to close his eyes, not wanting to deal with what the implications of that were.

"Rule number one, Reid, when I enter the room, you stand up unless instructed otherwise. This was your one and only freebie."

Reid, uncertain what he meant by that, nonetheless knew he needed to follow all instructions while he formulated a profile of the stranger. Moving slowly, as he had been lying down for a long time now and had stiffened up, Reid pulled himself up to a seated position, swung his legs over the side of the cot, then pushed himself up onto his feet. Reid swayed slightly, his head still a bit woozy from the sedative he'd been given, then stood still, waiting to see what the next step would be.

"Excellent. You're starting out perfectly. I knew you were the right one, from the very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew it." The man spread out his arms, turning in a circle, as if he were on display. "Soon this will be yours to discover, and enjoy."

Reid's brain balked at those words, but he forced his mind to observe and take in as much as information as it could, to be processed later. As Reid had thought, the man was at least 3 inches taller than him. His body was large, but it was all muscle. He was completely hair free, that Reid could see, except the hair on his head and his eyebrows. His demeanour was calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. And his eyes, were an icy blue, their stare penetrating as he once again stood and faced Reid. Reid glanced again into his eyes, and felt a cold shiver race down his spine; the eyes that looked back at him were dead cold, no soft emotion reflected whatsoever.

Suddenly the man turned and left the room. Reid heard him going back upstairs, and Reid wondered if he could sit down again. Just before he decided it would be safe to lower himself back down onto the cot as he was still feeling a bit wobbly on his feet, he heard the man's pounding footsteps descending the stairs, the door opening as the man re-entered the room with a tray of food. Reid was relieved to see he had thrown on shirt this time. 'I guess he showed me what he wanted me to see' Reid thought. Reid knew he had to keep his mind busy building his profile, or he would sink back into an extreme panic. "Here's your supper, Sunday means steak. Rule number two, you have exactly 15 minutes to eat. I'll be back to get your tray Reid. Then I can talk to you about the rest of your life, your new life in your new home." As the man turned to go, Reid started to ask. "Who are…"

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

With a speed belying his huge frame, the man had flown to Reid's side and slapped his face three times in quick succession, his powerful arm a blur. The blows were so hard Reid's head snapped to the side, his thin frame almost toppling onto the cot; his teeth cut the soft flesh of his inner cheek; and his face stung, as pain began to radiate through his head. In complete shock at what had just occurred, Reid lifted his hand to his enflamed cheek, his head swimming.

The man gazed into Reid's wide eyes, and spit out harshly, "Rule three, you never speak to me unless I give permission." The blue eyes were wild now, darkening with excitement at being given the opportunity to punish his new 'boyfriend.' Reid swallowed hard, his body threatening to collapse back on the bed at any moment. "I'll be back in precisely 15 minutes. Now eat."

The man turned and left the room quickly, as if he needed to get to upstairs as soon as possible. Reid, thankful he had left the light on, made his way over to the table. He knew if he let himself sit back on the bed, he would never convince his body to get up again. Reid looked down at the food on the plate, knowing he wouldn't be able to eat it, his stomach was in knots, but knowing he had to or face more punishment. Reid had deduced the man had OCD from the way he talked about rules. Reid also knew if he was OCD, then he would not tolerate any deviance from his established procedures. Reid tentatively rubbed his throbbing cheek, shuddering as he recalled the extreme enjoyment the man had gotten from slapping him. What scared Reid the most, at the moment, were the man's eyes; how empty they were at first, then the excitement that flooded them when he resorted to physical violence.

Reid looked down at the plate of food. The plate was paper, the cutlery plastic. There was a paper cup of what seemed to be red wine, and a bottle of water. Opening the water, Reid drank a few sips, realizing he had to stay hydrated. He also knew he had to eat, not only because he had a feeling the man would love to have another reason to hit him again, but because he knew if he was going to escape, he would have to keep his strength up. Against his stomach's strong objections, Reid forced himself to eat some potato. Waves of nausea flooded through him, while he fought to keep from vomiting. Breathing deeply, battling his protesting stomach, Reid managed to finish the vegetables on the plate without throwing up. But he knew he couldn't eat the steak, his roiling stomach had barely tolerated the soft vegetables; he knew it would not accept the cooked meat. Reid also knew if he didn't eat it, he most likely would be struck again. Picking the meat up with his fork, because there was no way he could cut it with the plastic knife, Reid tried to eat a bit. Almost immediately, he regretted it as the bile rose in his throat.

Reid hearing footsteps on the stairs again, quickly stood up, returning to stand beside his cot. Derek Danger re-entered the room, his eyes immediately going the uneaten steak. His brows lowering into a scowl, as he said, "You didn't eat your finish your supper." He took two steps towards Reid, his hands balled into fists. Reid started to shake uncontrollably, fear clearly written on his face, his mind finally reaching its limit again. Derek paused, mumbling rapidly to himself, he began pacing back and forth. Reid strained to hear what he was saying. "All food must be eaten. He has to be punished for not finishing his meal. But usually the first meal is not steak. And he did have a sedative. But all food must be eaten. But he is a special case; he came home in a completely different way than the others. I can't be unfair." Derek's face brightened as he came to a conclusion. "This one time only, you will get a warning. All food must be completely finished."

Then stepping closer to Reid his hand whipped out and Derek slapped him two more times. "That was a warning, the next time you will be punished appropriately." Before Reid had a chance to react, Derek pulled a small camera out of his pocket and gripped Reid's chin tightly in his hand. Turning Reid's untouched cheek towards him, he quickly snapped a close up picture; then turning Reid's head he did the same to the cheek that clearly bore red handprints. Next he took one of Reid's lips. "Beautiful, beautiful." Derek whispered as he took the pictures. When Derek stepped back, Reid noticed his pants, which had been flat, start to bulge again.

"It's time for me to go back upstairs now. But tomorrow, we'll start to have some real fun Reid." Derek picked up the tray and walked towards the door. Pausing in the doorway for a moment, he switched the overhead light off, throwing his face into shadow. "Tomorrow, we're going to have so much fun." As he spoke, he licked his lips, then chuckled. Climbing the stairs Derek smiled as he caught a whiff of his other favourite scent, human ammonia.

Reid stood transfixed, petrified at the thought of what tomorrow was going to bring; his mind barely registering the warm, wet manifestation of his fear slowly trickling down the inside of his leg.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Watching the gathering clouds through his kitchen window as he washed the supper dishes, Derek Danger smiled as he said quietly to himself, "I love when they pee their pants." Derek's smile broadened as he recalled the look of fear on his 'boyfriend's' face when Derek came into the room; it had been beautiful. And when 'Reid' had wobbled as he rose from the bed, Derek had had to force himself not to snatch him up and haul him into the next room. Derek's body had been ready for the other room, more than ready. But Derek was bending enough rules as it was with this new toy, he didn't want to even consider the punishment he'd have to inflict on himself if he took his 'Reid' into the next room before it was time.

A thrill of excitement shot through Derek as he recalled how amazing it felt to slap 'Reid's' face; his skin was so smooth and perfect. Once he had cleaned the kitchen, Derek intended to post his new pictures onto the kink sites. He had considered going back to take a picture of the scared young man's wet pyjama bottoms, but changed his mind; you really had to see those in person to appreciate them. Shivering with excitement at the memories, Derek again felt his body responding to his 'Mr. Right.' Derek decided to take care of himself first, before posting his photos. With the kitchen now in order, he hurried into the living room to once again watch his favourite video on the Internet while he pleasured himself...

Detective Hanson, munching on a ham sandwich supper at his desk, saw Detective Green sit down at his own desk with a load of files. Still chewing Hanson strode over to Green's desk, anxious to share his news with the frustrated younger detective. "Green, how's your search for similar cases going?" he asked once he neared his colleague.

"Not good, Hanson. So far none of the cases contain enough of the same elements that match this murder." Detective Green ran his fingers through his hair, his frustration palpable. "Maybe this was just a one off, and I'm wasting my time."

"I don't think so; it was too vicious, too well planned to have been the killers' first. Anyways, I've been trying to recall unsolved murder investigations from the past that might have been similar, and I've actually remembered two. I have one of the clerks searching the archives for the files. Maybe they'll contain some information you can use for this investigation." Hanson sounded pretty pleased with himself, and he was; he was glad he could assist Green, and he had enjoyed recalling his past work, it had really reactivated his enthusiasm for his job. "Let me know if there is anything else I do for you."

Green nodded, "Thanks for the help." He was surprised Hanson seemed to have a real interest in this case; and was happy that the older detective might have remembered something that would help him solve his current murder investigation. Feeling considerably more optimistic now, Green decided it would be good idea to head home so he could tackle the files with fresh eyes. He had been at the station over twelve hours now, and really needed some rest. Locking away the files he'd just retrieved, Green left for home, still pondering certain aspects of the case, especially the name Reid carved into the victim's foot...

Derek Danger lay on his couch, exhausted. He had gratified himself twice while watching the video; at one point so frantically that he had hurt himself, but the pain had only enhanced his enjoyment. Now he was waiting for his breathing and heart rate to return to normal so he could post his new pictures of his 'boyfriend', then spend the rest of the evening reading the comments that would flood in.

Derek loved writing taunting responses to them, along the lines of 'ha ha he's mine.' He knew he was supposed to go back to the basement with the shaving foam and razor, but he decided he would delay the shaving until tomorrow; again bending the rules a bit, because his new playmate had not been procured in the usual way. Besides, Derek knew he got too excited in the presence of his 'Mr. Perfect', he was currently too tired to battle with himself, and he didn't want to face the punishment he'd have to endure if he totally abandoned the required procedures by taking what he desperately craved.

This 'Mr. Right' was dangerous for Derek, he had known it as soon as he had walked into his bedroom; Derek, in less than 24 hours had broken and bent a number of rules because of him, and Derek's body could not be controlled at all in 'Reid's' presence. Derek ran a hand through his short hair, wondering if he should just get rid of him as soon as possible; stop thinking of him, and treating him, as a boyfriend.

'It would mean I wouldn't have to wait to split him open,' Derek thought, salivating as he imagined how electrifyingly amazing that was going to be, and hoping he would be 'Reid's' first. Seconds later he rejected the idea. He'd known from the first time he laid eyes on the gorgeous creature in the video that he was Derek's 'Mr. Perfect'; Derek wasn't going to let his own weakness, his own lack of self control, ruin his Fate-destined relationship with the slender specimen currently lying in Derek's basement wearing urine soaked pants, filled with fear. That thought made his body tingle, but it was too exhausted for another round of pleasure, so Derek got up, sat at his computer, and began to download his photos...

"Mom, tomorrow I'll need the key for Dr. Reid's apartment," the young boy bellowed down the hallway of his family's small apartment.

"What?" His mother shouted back as she tried to prevent her squirming three year old twins from leaving the bathtub while she tried to wash their hair. Robbie Freeman made his way down the hall to speak to his harassed mother.

"Dr. Reid called me mom, last night. He said he'd be away, and asked me to feed his fish."

Mrs. Freeman knew this was probably true; her son had made friends with the shy, skinny young man, and Dr. Reid often asked Robbie to take care of his fish when he was away due to work. "You'll have to go after supper tomorrow, Robbie. I've got some shopping to do tomorrow, so I'll need you home straight after school to mind the girls." Technically her husband was the manager/superintendant of the apartment building, but he often relegated minor shopping requirements to his wife.

As she continued bathing her daughters, Mrs. Freeman felt as if she was missing something; she vaguely remembered recently taking about Dr. Reid to someone else, but the memory, as so many of them did these days, seemed to elude her. She knew the exhaustion she felt every day was to blame for her lack of recall. 'Oh well, probably nothing worth remembering anyways'...

Pacing like a caged lion, Reid was desperately trying to prevent his mind from sliding into a complete panic. Reid felt overwhelming shame every time his wet pyjama bottoms brushed against his legs. Logically he knew it had been out of his control; releasing urine due to extreme fright was something all mammals had in common, there was absolutely no way he could have stopped it. But knowing the facts didn't stop the emotions. Reid knew he had to focus, concentrate, analyse what he knew, and build a character profile of his captor. He knew he'd need his brain working at full capacity in order to accomplish his ultimate goal, escape. Which meant he'd have to keep his emotions in check, buried, out of the way; and keep his mind focused only on survival and escape, nothing else. Unfortunately, against his will, Reid's mind kept touching down on the obvious fact that the man enjoyed inflicting pain on his victims, revelled in it.

Suddenly, Reid covered his face with his hands, his body shaking, as his tears of anguish trailed down his cheeks; almost ready to give up the battle of preventing his mind from shattering.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Prentiss stood staring at the pictures on the evidence board, willing the poor victims to give her a sign regarding the link between them. She was determined to push this investigation ahead today; the team needed to solve this and get back to Quantico before it imploded on itself.

Yesterday had been a turning point, and the turn had been an ugly one. They all knew Hotch was on edge, and figured it was more than just what had happened with Reid. The others had a feeling Rossi knew more than he was sharing, but no one had had the nerve to question him. They all also knew that Morgan had been especially affected by what they had done and the disastrous results of their prank. So, the clash between the two overly wound up men was basically inevitable. And the victim that had been discovered Sunday night was the catalyst.

She was ninety-two years old, and the second victim to be discovered that day, even though she had actually been dead, according to the coroner, for around 72 hours. She lived alone, had no near relatives, and was only discovered because someone noticed her newspapers were piling up on her doorstep. Morgan had been livid that the poor woman had lain dead and alone so long, and had blown up at the attending police officers. It had been totally irrational, unfair to the officers, and caused some lingering resentment towards the FBI by the local authorities.

Hotch, witness to the yelling fit, had immediately reprimanded Morgan, sending him back to the station to review the files while the others examined the crime scene, and informed him that there would be further disciplinary actions awaiting him when they returned to Quantico. Hotch's voice had been so low, so full of suppressed anger, so ice cold, Prentiss had instinctively shivered. Morgan, feeling he had been unfairly treated, his pride injured at being told off in front of the others, had stormed out of the victim's house, gone straight to the hotel, and calmed himself down with a couple of stiff drinks.

So now Prentiss was doggedly scanning the photos and the files, praying she found the link that would point them in the direction of this vicious serial killer. Rossi had gone back to the morgue to ask the coroner some further questions, and Morgan had gone back to the crime scene, alone, to see if he could figure anything out. Hotch, running on little more than black coffee, sat at the other end of the table with JJ discussing how to handle the press release on this new victim. Suddenly, Prentiss noticed something. Quickly she checked the other photos, searched the personal information sections of the files, then called over her shoulder, "Hotch, I think I've found the link between the victims."...

Placing the coffee on the breakfast tray, Derek Danger wondered if his new 'boyfriend' drank it black like he did. He decided to place a small container of milk, and some sugar cubes on the tray just in case his 'Reid' liked his coffee sweet. Derek knew he still had so much to learn about his new find; with his previous boyfriends he had already talked to them, either in person or on line, for a while before they were brought to the basement, had learned a few things about them, but with this one, he knew nothing. Which was kind of exciting, in a way. Derek decided he would find out Reid's full name when he took him down his breakfast, and he would let him ask Derek a question, maybe two.

This morning he would also be taking down the razor and foam for the first shaving. Sometimes Derek insisted on doing the shaving himself, but that was usually for men that he knew would not be staying for long, men who already proven themselves unacceptable; therefore the shaving could get as 'messy' as he wanted. Derek smiled to himself as he thought about some of the 'fun' he had had during those shaving sessions. However, this one was 'Mr. Perfect', so Derek would let him shave himself. Momentarily depressed he would not get to press the razor against Reid's nude body, Derek brightened up as he recalled that Reid might not be able to reach every nook and cranny. Hoping the gorgeous young man was not too flexible, Derek went to fetch the shaving implements...

The hours had seemed to go on forever. Reid had no idea what time it was, or even what day it was for that matter. He knew his kidnapper had drugged him, so he could have been down in this basement for a number of days already. After Reid had, once again, pulled his mind under control again, he had forced himself to refocus his brain. He knew he would have to analyse everything the man had done and said in order to get a handle on a profile for him, figure out the fastest way to gain his trust, and maybe convince him to let Reid go. Also, Reid knew he had to start trying to plan his escape. Keeping his mind constantly occupied with these two things was the only way he was going to be able to avoid collapsing in total panic.

Pacing the room, Reid discovered what was behind the screens in the corner, a toilet and small sink. There was also a mirror above the sink. Reid saw numerous dents around the edges, he surmised the glass was shatter proof; the dents were testament to the previous attempts to break it, possibly to use the shards as a weapon. The obvious indications of other victims, momentarily paralysed Reid's mind and body; since he was alone here, the apparent end result of captivity was something Reid's beleaguered brain just could not handle. Reid, not wanting his new found resolve to falter, quickly pushed those thoughts aside, hiding them behind his badly damaged inner mental shield. Gazing at his reddened cheek, and swollen bottom lip, Reid asked himself, "Why has this happened to me?" Feeling a sob starting to build in his chest, Reid hurriedly walked around the rest of the small room, forcing his intellectual self to regain dominance.

Reid spent the night sitting at the table, not at all tired, going over and over in his head what he knew about the man upstairs, his probable psychology, and what would be the best things to ask him when he returned. Not knowing the time was driving Reid a little crazy, he felt adrift not even knowing if it was morning yet. Reid had so many questions, but he knew he'd have to prioritize them, as he suspected he might not get to ask too many at once. He needed to find out the man's name, it was the best way to get a connection established. He also was curious how he knew Reid's name, where he had seen Reid before, how he knew about him. But those questions would not aid Reid in his two main quests, so would have to stay unasked for now. 'Why have you done this' and 'why me' where also things Reid wanted to know but would have to be delayed.

Reid's head was starting to pound behind his eyes, which he suspected was massive caffeine withdrawal. Feeling nauseous from the increasing pain, Reid's emotions slowly weaved their way back through his body, causing a gut-wrenching sob to escape. Legs shaky, stomach heaving, Reid barely made it back to the hidden toilet before he vomited up his pain. Later, splashing his face with cold water, once again Reid started to corral his emotions and refocus his thoughts...

Detective Green was given the two files Detective Hanson had mentioned at 10:00am. By 10:30 he knew he would probably have to bring in the FBI. The two cases, while not identical to each other or Green's current case, had enough similarities that a strong case could be made that they were committed by the same man. A man who most likely had other victims sitting in other cold case files. A man, who if the one of Hanson's cases was him, had been torturing and killing young men since 1986. Green stared at the picture in the file. Twenty-four years had passed since the poor, unfortunate victim had been brutally tortured; for weeks according to the coroner's report. Then he'd been killed, gruesomely, from a long metal object thrust up inside of him so far it had perforated numerous internal organs. Green felt himself shudder, his stomach rolling over as he imagined the pain the poor guy had endured.

And finally, the letters carved into the victim's foot, post-mortem just like Green's victim; except it had not been a name, it had been two words, 'MR. RIGHT'...


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**NOTE: A huge thanks to everyone reading my story, and for your great reviews. By popular request, I'm going to try my best to post chapters twice a week. And Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians!**

Reid could smell coffee. The aroma made his stomach growl, and he actually started to tremble a little as his intense craving for the caffeine overwhelmed him. Now sitting on the edge of his cot, Reid watched the door open, his captor walk in with a tray of food, then turn and face him. Reid, remembering the rule, immediately stood up, willing himself not to make a frantic dash for the cup of coffee he could see on the tray. His hands were actually shaking like an alcoholic who had been deprived of liquor, and Reid had a feeling it wouldn't be a smart idea to let this man know of his addiction to the fragrant brown liquid. Reid knew any knowledge his kidnapper had of weaknesses would most likely be used against him later.

Derek Danger was silent for a minute, just drinking in the beautiful site of his 'Reid', still dressed in his blue pyjamas. Starting from the two different socks on his feet, Derek let his eyes drift slowly upward, recalling what the young man's body looked like underneath the pyjamas, then finally drinking in the myriad of emotions that flickered in his gorgeous, soulful hazel eyes. Derek loved hazel eyes; he had only had one other boyfriend with those eyes, the one he had originally thought was his 'Mr. Perfect'. Derek had not been able to tell what colour his 'Reid's' eyes were in the darkened video posted on the Internet; so it was a wonderful revelation, and another sign that Fate had brought him this new possession, that this second, real 'Mr. Right' had them as well.

Suddenly Derek noticed the whiskers on the slender man's chin. Revolted, Derek forced his temper from rising by reminding himself that his 'Reid' wouldn't have shaved for two days, and that this problem would soon be rectified. Once again under control, Derek spoke "Here's your breakfast. Clean your plate, no reprieves today. The normal length of time to consume breakfast is 15 minutes, that's the rule. Today, however, I'll be back in 45 minutes. After you eat, you will clean yourself up with this razor. Everywhere except your head and brows. Everywhere."

The second 'everywhere' was said with such menace, Reid instinctively took a step back. At the moment his complete attention was on the coffee; he barely took in the implication of what Derek was saying. His next words, however, managed to capture Reid's attention. "Tell me your name."

Reid was a little surprised, he'd assumed since the man had called him 'Reid', that he knew who he was. "My name..." Reid started.

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

Once again Derek had flown over and slapped Reid's face. The blows had been even harder than yesterday, causing Reid to actually fall onto the cot. Derek hauled him up by the hair, gripping his cheeks with his huge hand and squeezing them painfully. "You will answer questions quickly and exactly. No extra words. That is the rule" Derek said harshly into Reid's ear, shaking his head violently at the end of each sentence.

Derek released Reid who barely managed to stay on his feet. His face was stinging painfully from the slaps and the squeezing hand; his head was throbbing to the beat of his racing heart. Attempting to keep his voice steady, Reid tried to answer again, "Spencer Reid." He purposely left out the Doctor, unsure if that would antagonize the unstable man even more.

"Good. See how much better that was. Straight to the point, no waste of words. Now, just to be fair, you may ask me one question." Derek gave Reid a smile; his voice calm, acting as if his hostile behaviour a minute ago had never happened. Reid knew the quicksilver change in mood and emotion, meant the man's psychosis was very strong.

Remembering to keep his words to a minimum, Reid hesitantly asked, "What's your name?" Reid emphasized the word 'your', hoping the man would respond to the subtle ego rub, and finished his question with a small smile.

The man standing beside the table was silent for a few minutes. Reid hoped he hadn't miscalculated; he had decided last night that this was the correct question to start with in order to move forward with his plan. Reid made himself stand perfectly still, which was extremely hard when all he actually wanted to do was press his pounding head into his hands.

"Derek Danger" the man finally responded, "But you will call me Darling Derek." With that Derek turned and left the room, his mind and body on fire with excitement at finding out his new 'boyfriends' name, getting the chance to punish him again, and witnessing his heart-stopping smile. Derek ran up the stairs, anxious to eat his own breakfast and then watch the masturbation video before he came back down to inspect Reid's shaved body.

Reid stood frozen. His mind, which he had been fighting to hold together during the whole encounter, refused to accept the fact that this madman's name was _Derek_...

"Hotch, look, see these victims?" Prentiss pointed out the pictures of the victims before they were killed, while Hotch and JJ listened silently, "They're all wearing hearing aids; you can just see the edges. And the files indicate the others, every one of them, mention that the victim was hard of hearing. Which means they most likely also had a hearing aid, or was looking into getting one. What if the Unsub is connected with a store or manufacturer for hearing aids?"

"It's a great possibility Prentiss, good job. JJ, you and Prentiss re-interview the family members and see where the devices were purchased. Get the doctor's names too, the link may be there. If the victim doesn't have a hearing aid, ask if they were discussed at all; family might not know if the victim had actually started shopping for one." Hotch spoke quickly and precisely, relief at having a viable lead finally discovered reflected in his tone of voice. Prentiss and JJ left the room, while Hotch got on the phone with Garcia.

While she started her computer searches for area doctors, manufactures, suppliers and stores, Hotch dialled Rossi's number. "Dave, Prentiss found a link..."...

Finishing the last bite of the banana that had been on his breakfast tray, Reid swallowed hard, forcing the soft fruit down his throat, all the while hoping it wouldn't all be coming right back up again. He sipped his coffee, trying to make it last as long as possible; it was his only solace. Stomach in knots, tightening in protest against any more food, Reid glanced at the quickly congealing oatmeal and knew he would soon be finding out what the punishment for not finishing his meal would be. There was no way he would be able to choke it down. Reid first contemplated flushing the oatmeal down the toilet, or the sink, but knew he was being filmed and would be caught. Reid had found concealed cameras when he had searched the room last night. They had been very well hidden, and wouldn't be discovered by an untrained eye; they were everywhere, even behind the screens.

Reid felt himself starting to sink into defeat again. His scalp was hurting, his face was hurting, his heart was hurting. 'Drift away' his mind counselled him. Reid's eyes turned towards the shaving foam and razor, he recalled Derek Danger's instructions. Wondering what the penalty for noncompliance of those orders would be, he slowly began unbuttoning his pyjama top with ice-cold fingers Reid just could not stop from shaking...

Once the victim link had been established, the case was resolved exceptionally quickly. With Garcia able to access information from a number of databases, she was able to narrow the suspect pool down to two possible candidates. Both men worked in the manufacturing end of the hearing aids, both were in their late twenties which matched the age given in the profile, and both had been raised by their elderly grandmothers who had evidently believed in corporal punishment. Garcia dug further, discovering one of the men, Daniel Pecchia, had buried his grandmother just last month, and had insisted on the corpse wearing its hearing aid. Hotch and Morgan avoided each other as much as professionally possible, both still livid at the other. Taking the Unsub into custody that evening when he returned from work went so smoothly, his confession not needing very much prompting, that Hotch decided to give everyone a break; it was so late when they finally wrapped everything up, Hotch elected to have them stay at the hotel for another night rather than suffer through sleeping on the jet.

Hotch sat on his bed, flicking aimlessly through the TV channels, hoping once they got back to Quantico, Reid would be ready to answer his calls and talk to him. Hotch rubbed his aching stomach, wondering why the unresolved pain in his gut had increased substantially throughout the day.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**NOTE: Thanks so much for your wonderful reviews. I greatly appreciate them.**

Pain.

Humiliation.

His mind was completely filled with both, each vying for supremacy. Reid lay prone on the cot, his comforter wrapped around his nude body as tightly as he could manage to get it. Just before his brain decided it had had enough for now, and directed his mind to sink him into the darkness, Reid felt a hot tear roll slowly down his cheek…..

Derek Danger was in a quandary. He had raced upstairs intending to watch his favourite video, in preparation for the shaving inspection he had to do in 45 minutes. Derek figured it was best to 'take care' of himself before he had to get close to his freshly smooth playmate, otherwise he wouldn't be able to keep himself under control; when that had happened with a previous young boyfriend, Derek had had to find a new one almost immediately. But instead, curiosity had gotten the better of him, resulting in him typing the name Spencer Reid into a search engine, hoping to find out some information about his 'Mr. Right.'

Now, Derek was trying to decide if he should keep his new possession and play with him as he had intended, or quickly get rid of the FBI agent in his basement who appeared to be some kind of genius, judging by the articles about him and papers he had written. Derek had quickly scrolled through all of the sites, his heart nearly beating out of his chest, his emotions a combination of fear, anger and pride. Fear that this one would ultimately be too dangerous to keep, and too risky to dispose of in the usual way, his new 'boyfriend' could, as incredible as it sounded, possibly get him in trouble with the police; anger that he might not be able to fully enjoy his 'Mr. Right', his Fate provided 'Mr. Perfect'; and pride that his 'boyfriend' was so intelligent, as well as being beautiful. Derek s mind whirled; 'keep him, get rid of him' continually looping through, interwoven with 'but he's mine, HE'S MINE, I WANT HIM, I DESERVE HIM'…

Reid stood in front of the small mirror over the sink, staring at himself, gathering the courage to start shaving. On his first attempt to lift the razor to his lathered chin, his hand had shook so violently, he'd became afraid he'd seriously cut himself. He instinctively knew if he had a lot of nicks, that madman upstairs would be furious. When he'd said 'smooth' his eyes had glittered with excitement; it made Reid's skin crawl remembering it. Against his will, Reid's mind kept wanting to touch down on the fact that his captor shared a name with one of his closest friends. "Former friend" he had whispered, hoping it might help lessen the intensity of psychological impact he knew this circumstance was going to cause. Trying to concentrate, marshalling his thoughts into the statement he kept repeating over and over in his head like a mantra, 'Do anything you have to, to stay alive, and escape', Reid slowly stroked the razor down his cheek...

"Mom, I need the key. The fish will be starving to death." Robbie's mother rolled her eyes as she brought her son the key to Dr. Reid's apartment. She had just stepped in the door, she could hear her twins squabbling in the kitchen, she had a major league headache building behind her eyes, and now her eldest son was harassing her over some stupid fish. If it was for anyone other than the polite Dr. Reid, who was pretty easy on even her overtired eyes, than she would have told Robbie to forget it, he was needed at home and the fish could wait another day.

"Just make sure you don't touch anything, and make sure the door locks behind you." "I have to touch the fish food" Robbie answered cheekily, as he snatched the key and raced down the hall to the elevators before his mother changed her mind about letting him go.

Robbie loved helping Dr. Reid. For one thing, he was about the only adult in Robbie's life that really listened to what he had to say, and talked to him just like he was another adult, instead of just a ten year old kid. Two, Dr. Reid seemed to know just about everything. He could talk for ages on any subject Robbie brought up; he was fascinating to listen to; obviously much smarter than Robbie's teachers at school, who got flustered and angry when Robbie asked them the same questions he asked Dr. Reid. Three, Dr. Reid worked for the FBI, solving crimes, catching all kinds of criminals; how exciting was that? Dr. Reid often told Robbie stories about his cases, G versions anyways. And, of course, the fact that Dr. Reid paid him for feeding his fish made him a definite favourite; Robbie was hiding quite a bit of cash in his drawer, he had almost enough to get himself a Nintendo Wii.

Robbie knocked on the door first, as his mother instructed just in case Dr. Reid was actually home. Waiting a moment, Robbie used the key to get in, then hurried over to the fish tank. He loved the colourful fish almost as much as Dr. Reid; and had secretly named each one. Enjoying the calm silence of Dr. Reid's apartment, Robbie fed the fish, gazing in wonder at each one, recalling what Dr. Reid had told him about each species. "One day, I'm going to know as much as Dr. Reid, and work for the FBI, catching bad guys" Robbie whispered to the fish. As he finally went back to the door, Robbie noticed the suitcase sitting in the hall. Puzzled, Robbie wondered why Dr. Reid hadn't taken it with him when he left. As he made his way back to his noisy, busy apartment, Robbie thought about the suitcase, considered mentioning to his mother, then decided it was probably some adult reason; sometimes the things adults did made absolutely no sense whatsoever...

Reid was starting to panic. He had succeeded in shaving his face and upper torso, thanks in part to the fact that he already had a smooth chest and back. He had begun to freak out a bit while stroking the razor down his arms; the sight of the tiny mark indicating his old injection site caused such a strong craving for Diladid, he had actually started to tremble and sweat. Fighting through that barrier, Reid had completed shaving all areas normally covered by his pyjama top. But now, he had to remove his bottoms. And he couldn't bring himself to do it. His brain refused to let him continue.

Reid felt sick. He knew if he didn't follow that man's instructions (he refused to think of him as 'Derek') he would be punished; and if his earlier reprimands were any indication, he would be experiencing a great deal of pain. Reid felt his legs start to shake as he argued with himself. Suddenly a terrible thought occurred to him; if he didn't shave his own body, his captor would probably do the job for him. That terrifying thought was enough for Reid to quickly remove the rest of his clothes, and, his mind gone numb, his hands as cold as ice, begin lathering his lower stomach...

Derek Danger glanced at the clock. It was time for the inspection. Stepping into his bedroom to retrieve a few articles he had taken with him when he'd gone to meet Doug on Friday night, Derek smiled; this was one of his favourite parts of the educating. Derek's mind was finally at rest about his 'Reid.' He'd decided to wait and see what was reported in the papers today. He knew a missing FBI agent would definitely be news, so he'd find out what the speculation was before he made any hasty moves. Derek knew he'd left no clues, no way for the kidnapping to be tied to him; he was too organized, too careful for that. There may actually be no reason for him to get rid of his new toy right now; and if, for some unimaginable reason he proved to be in adequate, Derek could think of a new way to dispose of him. After all, he was always up for a new challenge, and what better fun could there be than thwarting the best efforts of the FBI to find their colleague. That thought excited Derek immensely.

Derek knew he had made the right decision as soon as he opened the basement door. He glanced at the uneaten oatmeal, and felt his blood heat up with anticipation of the punishment that entailed. Next, he moved his gaze to his new 'boyfriend', standing beside his cot. His 'Reid' had an almost defiant look on his face, which Derek liked to see; but his round hazel eyes betrayed the inner turmoil, the fear, the extreme fear, and that is what Derek loved to see. Putting his implements down on the table, Derek pulled out one of the chairs, sat down, crossed his arms over his chest, smiled, and said, "Strip."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

"Strip."

Reid could hear himself breathing in the oppressive silence that filled the room after his captor had spoken. He heard his breath hitch a little, and forced himself to inhale deeply, restore his control somewhat. He'd had known this would happen, had mentally prepared himself for the inevitable. But telling yourself something and being presented with the reality was two completely different things. Reid saw the man's eyes narrow slightly; he knew he had to follow the instruction, or suffer the indignity of having his pyjamas removed forcibly.

Barely able to stop his slender fingers from shaking, Reid slowly undid his top button. His whole body felt numb, his mind screaming at him not to undress, not to expose himself to this psychotic man. But his brain knew he had no choice; it consoled him somewhat by letting him know all the reasons why he must do as he was told. Survival was the main objective, escape the main goal. Reid made himself think about the possible profiles for this Unsub; giving his brain something else to focus on besides the fact that he would soon be standing naked in front of his violent abductor...

Detective Green stared at the forms and checklist he had to fill out in order to have his files reviewed by his superiors and green lighted for submission to the FBI. These were the new procedures, and they were designed to thwart officers from using the FBI resources to solve their crimes for them. Unfortunately, they also made detectives like Green, with legitimate cases, want to avoid the hassle. Green sighed, wondering if the three cases he had in front of him were really the work of one man, or if his imagination was working overtime. It would be just his luck, he pondered, to submit the cases and they turned out to have nothing to do with each other.

Detective Green scanned the files for the umpteenth time, his eyes filled with the images from the crime scene and autopsy photos. No, he couldn't argue it away; these three cases were too similar. Although it went against his nature, he would be remiss not to get assistance; if it was a serial killer he had to be stopped as soon as possible. Grabbing himself another cup of stale police station coffee, Green made himself comfortable on his chair, and pulled the first page of the form towards him...

"Stop"

Reid had just undone his last button. He let his hands drop down to his sides, and looked at his captor with a question in his eyes.

Derek loved this game. He could always tell when the 'boyfriend' had steeled himself to get through it, just like his 'Reid' had done. Over the years, many of the men had tried to tune out what was happening, remain stoic throughout the inspection. But Derek had learned just how to break down those defences, just how to make sure the new partner suffered emotionally from the experience. He knew this new 'boyfriend' would be strong mentally, he was in an elite section of the FBI after all; he would probably take longer to reduce. Derek looked forward to the challenge.

Derek stared at the exposed strip of pale torso between the two sides of the pyjama top. He had already known his 'Reid' was smooth chested from the video; he just wanted a chance to drink it in while it was still unblemished. Unfortunately punishments meant that soon the soft skin would no longer be perfect. Derek licked his lips, lifting his eyes up to Reid's face, happily noting the uncertainty reflected there. Derek knew by experience that Reid would brace himself up again momentarily, so he barked out his next instruction, "Pull the cloth to the sides."

As expected, a red flush of embarrassment slowly made its way up his new 'boyfriend's' neck as he was forced to hold the pyjama top to the sides, revealing his full upper torso. Derek knew immediately that his new 'boyfriend' was extremely shy about his body; he had suspected as much by the fact that he went to bed in full pyjamas. Derek let his gaze fixate on Reid's nipple, licking his lips again, then enjoying the slight tremble he saw.

"You should be grateful I found you" Derek said, lifting his eyes to look into Reid's. Not sure where this was going, Reid stayed quiet. "Don't you have any manners?" Derek bellowed, sitting upright, "What should you say if you're grateful for something?"

Reid felt his knees shake as Derek's voice echoed around the room. Trying to keep his voice firm, and the acidic gorge from moving up his esophogus, Reid answered, "Thank you." Derek's eyebrow went up, "Thank you, who?" Reid swallowed, breathed, swallowed again, and trying to keep his voice from quavering, replied, "Thank you, darling Derek." As his captor smiled, for a moment Reid felt like bursting into tears. Derek could see the momentary distress on his 'boyfriend's' face; a wave of excitement washed over him.

'I wish we could play this game all day' Derek thought to himself, as he barked out "Take your top off, slowly."

Reid knew from his studies, and experience, that psychological damage, and torture, was often worse than physical. The mind, when injured, was much harder to repair and restore, than the body. He knew he had to keep his mind intact. Using his brain intelligently, he would have to protect himself from his captor's obvious attempts to break him down. The problem was, this madman seemed to know all the right buttons to push, seemed to have a game plan already prepared. Reid knew this meant he would have to be extremely careful not to let himself fall into deep depression, and acceptance of the situation. He had to mentally fight, keep his brain vigilant in keeping himself alive, and planning a means of escape.

Reid made himself repeat his mantra as he slipped his pyjama top off. Hoping his eyes weren't betraying his true emotions, Reid faced his kidnapper with his head held high. He was naked from the waist up, and could feel goosebumps starting form from the cool air in the basement room. Reid could feel, as well as see, the man's eyes roam around his body. A shiver of revulsion, which he couldn't control, raced through him, as the scrutiny continued.

"You can ask me one question." Derek was surprised at his own largesse; usually his boyfriends didn't get more than one question a day, and this would be two. Reid had already prepared his questions in the order he intended to ask them, so quickly asked, "May I have a watch?" Reid knew in order to escape, he would have to know if his captor kept to a rigid schedule as many people with OCD did; he had to know when he could expect the man to come into the basement room, and when he usually wouldn't.

Derek was taken aback; this was definitely not what he expected. "Maybe. I'll think about it." The request had puzzled him, made him lose concentration; Derek swiftly regained control.

"Turn around." Reid did as instructed, glad to be facing away from the icy blue stare.

Derek hissed in a breath as he got his first look at his new 'boyfriends' smooth back. This, too, had obviously been hairless and perfect; it had not been visible in the video. Derek suddenly had the overwhelming urge to touch the expanse of sensuous skin; he had to literally sit on his hands for a minute. Glad his new playmate could not see his loss of control, Derek dug his fingernails into his wrists knowing the little shock of pain would help in regaining his composure. Calmed down slightly, Derek let himself enjoy the sight of his 'Mr. Perfect's' hair curling along his slender, delicate looking neck. Remembering some of the disgusting comments that had been made in the video about that same neck, Derek smiled as he looked forward to having some 'fun' with that particular body part.

Raise your arms up, and turn around."

As Reid once again faced his captor, he was surprised to see him pulling on a pair of surgical gloves. Derek usually played the shaving inspection game with bare hands, but he knew he couldn't trust himself with prolonged skin-to-skin contact yet. The punishment he would have to inflict on himself if he lost control at this early stage would be immense. He felt a rush of triumph, and desire, as he watched the young man's beautiful hazel eyes widen, and breathed in the intoxicating smell of fear that emanated from Reid's sweet body.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Derek Danger stood up, slowly walking towards his 'boyfriend' who was currently standing beside the cot, his arms held above his head, naked from the waist up. Although he usually waited to do the 'touch test' until the new 'boyfriend' was completely nude, Derek knew it would be impossible with this new possession. Derek wanted to inflict as much psychological damage as he possibly could; he'd learned from experience that this first game would set the tone for the whole length of the relationship. And Derek also knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that once his 'Reid' removed his pyjama bottoms, he wouldn't be able to play very long; Derek realized his self-control would be rapidly stretched to the limit, requiring him to get back upstairs, out of danger, fairly quickly.

Derek kept his icy blue eyes completely focused on Reid's hazel ones. Derek loved his 'Mr. Perfect's' eyes; he loved how they constantly changed colour, reflecting his 'Reid's' internal struggles. Derek smirked, and watched Reid's eyes grow darker, from fear. As he pondered whether they would go as dark from pleasure, Derek dropped his eyes down to Reid's mouth. His bottom lip had swollen nicely, covered with a purple bruise. Licking his own suddenly dry lips, Derek felt his body begin to fill with desire, and quickly shifted his gaze to his 'boyfriend's' neck.

Reid's stomach clenched with panic as he saw the lust flare up in his captor's eyes. Trying desperately not to tremble, Reid silently repeated his mantra, intending to keep his mind focused, sharp. Suddenly Derek grabbed Reid by the throat, causing him to gasp in surprise. Tightening his grip, Derek squeezed until Reid's eyes widened in terror and pain, then just as suddenly he released him. As Reid coughed convulsively, trying to regain his breath, his arms started to automatically began to lower.

"Keep your arms raised or you'll be punished." Derek lowered his voice, knowing it would sound more menacing; and was rewarded with the small, faint sob he heard between Reid's coughs.

"Turn around."

Reid did as instructed, still coughing slightly, his throat throbbing with pain. As Derek slowly slid his latex covered finger down his spine, Reid forced his brain to concentrate on keeping his body perfectly still. Reid knew if he reacted to his captor's touch, it would adversely affect the psychological barrier he was trying to build in order to survive the ordeal. Derek silently laughed to himself, well aware of the effort Reid was making while he stroked his spine.

"Face me."

Derek moved his fingers across Reid's armpits, then pinched them as hard as he could. Reid yelped from the sharp pain, then swallowed convulsively as he tried to regain his mental control. Derek was extremely proud of his new find, he was doing quite well at keeping it together; many of Derek's past guests had already been crying and pleading by this point. This was further proof that this one was definitely his 'Mr. Right.'

"You can put your arms down now."

Reid lowered his arms slowly, his shoulder muscles screaming in protest, his hands numb from being held up so long. Derek stepped back, raked his eyes up and down Reid's entire body, then smiled wide. "You did a good job. Very smooth. Perfect." Derek let a few seconds tick by then said, with a frown, "What do you say when someone gives you a compliment?"

Reid's throat was painfully dry as he tried to swallow. Trying to keep his voice steady, he whispered, "Thank you, d..darling D..D..Derek." Derek had once again seen the fleeting look of distress cross Reid's face, and knew the stutter wasn't just because he was nervous of what was happening now. Derek decided to play it up, sure this would be a good way to chip away at his new playmate's mental defences.

"You look so beautiful when you're smooth."

"Thank you, darling D.. Derek."

"Are you glad I made you shave?"

"Yes, darling D..Derek."

No matter what mental gymnastics he tried, Reid could not get himself to call this madman 'Derek' without a hesitation. Reid's mind was starting to revolt, wanting to turn away from what was happening, but he made himself stay focused. He had to remember how his captor's facial expressions changed, his demeanour, his voice tone, all the little things that would help Reid later to determine his moods and thoughts. Reid knew if he could 'read' the man, he would know when he was most vulnerable to Reid's attempts at empathy and establishing a connection. This was one of Reid's specialties, and he knew it would be imperative in this situation.

"Do you like when I touch your smooth body?"

Reid wanted to say no, Derek knew he wanted to say no, but they both knew he was going to say yes. Derek felt his hand start to tremble, itching to reach out towards the gorgeous naked torso, with its pale, smooth, soft skin. Watching the emotions roll across Reid's face, his eyes blazing his fear, Derek felt his body reacting; he knew he should pull back a bit to keep himself under control, but the temptation was too great.

"Yes, darling..." Reid swallowed, his throat raw "...Derek."

"Yes what?"

"Yes please, darling D..Derek."

"Yes please what?"

Reid couldn't stop his voice from quavering, his body's tremors now beyond his control as well. Staring into the blue eyes, now reflecting the rabid heat that filled Derek's entire body, Reid knew what he had to say, and hoped he wouldn't vomit immediately after saying it. His shaky voice barely above a whisper, Reid responded, "Please touch me, darling Derek," while his brain shrieked, NO NO NO.

Before Reid could steady his breathing again, Derek had whipped his hand out and stroked it straight across Reid's chest. Then he rubbed down to Reid's belly button, and quickly back up again. With an increasingly urgent need now consuming him, Derek used both hands to painfully twist each of Reid's sensitive nipples, causing Reid to cry out at the sharp pain. The sound seemed to nudge Derek's brain back into control of his actions again and he quickly returned to the chair. Trying to slow his racing heart by breathing deeply, Derek steadied his mind, while his body began to cool down again. Finally, after several minutes, during which Reid also regained control of himself, Derek spoke, his voice a low hiss.

"Drop your pants."

Derek closed his eyes, his body bent over and rocking, his arms pressed against his thighs forcing him to stay seated. At the very first glimpse of his new 'boyfriend's' freshly smooth, tender groin, he'd nearly completely lost it.

Reid now stood totally exposed, his body shivering from exposure and fear. Abject shame burned across his face. He had closed his eyes as he removed his pyjama bottoms and underwear, not wanting to see his captor's reaction to his nudity. Reid wasn't sure why the man had not tried to sexually attack him yet, when he so obviously wanted to. Still feeling some pain where his captor had hurt him, Reid focused his mind on his mantra, hoping this would all soon be over, but knowing it was unlikely. As he stood on trembling legs, his eyes closed, his body growing increasingly cold, fear starting to once again overwhelm him, trying not to contemplate what might be coming next, his brain floated a new sentence through his mind, 'Somebody help me, please. Hotch, where are you? Please help me'...

Detective Green had finally completed the paperwork needed to submit a file to the FBI headquarters in Quantico. He had a clerk photocopy the three files, and provide him with a 'Top Priority' sticker, then hand delivered the whole package to his Captain's desk himself. He didn't know if the cases would be considered urgent, but he'd had a bad feeling ever since he saw the John Doe's body splayed out in the alley, and he just knew if someone didn't do something soon, they would be finding a new victim. Although there were only three cases right now that seemed connected, Green knew the likelihood of their being many others over the years was extremely high.

When the new rules had come in, the detectives were told their superiors' responses would take up to 24 hours. Which was why Green was surprised to find out his files had been forwarded to the FBI that very evening. Detective Green went home after midnight, hoping that whoever at Quantico decided which files would be chosen, would reach the same conclusion he, and obviously his captain, had come to. That this assumed serial killer, this completely psychotic animal, had to be found and stopped, as soon as possible.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

The minutes passed slowly, as Reid stood naked, exposed, waiting for his captor's next move. Keeping his eyes closed, Reid prayed he'd hear the door open and close, then footsteps going up the stairs. The interminable waiting was torture; Reid struggled to stop his mind from imagining what may happen next, and none of it was good. Reid shifted nervously, wincing as his sore nipples sent darts of pain down his torso.

Derek Danger was afraid, afraid to open his eyes. He desperately wished he could leave, just get the hell out of the basement room, away from temptation. But that would definitely be against the rules; he had to finish the shaving inspection, there was no alternative choice. Unfortunately Derek knew he couldn't, couldn't go anywhere near his new 'boyfriend's' uncovered genitals. He had been staring at them on the Internet video, had memorized them, all week, and now having them live, in the flesh, a few feet from his face, his mouth, his teeth, was overpowering.

Derek concentrated on reigning in his out-of-control thoughts, forcing his mind back to its usual calm, controlled state. As he went through the mental steps he had been taught by a therapist as a child, he also began a low, deep keening which he had discovered some years ago that seemed to assist his brain in regain command of his thoughts and actions. Finally he began to feel the lust fuelled tension ease; soon he'd be able to finish up down here and get back to his normal Monday morning routine. Still keening, Derek made the decision that despite the severe punishment he'd have to inflict on himself, there was no way he could complete the frontal inspection; he just couldn't trust himself.

Reid was confused. 'What is that sound?' he thought, as a chill of fear ran quickly through him. 'Breathe, breathe' Reid knew relaxing his breathing would trick his body and mind into relaxing a little too; moments later he realized that the sound emitted by his captor was a gauge as to how far away he was and it was obvious to Reid that the man was still near the table. Even though he was still reluctant to open his eyes, ascertaining that made Reid feel as if his brain was functioning at his usual level again, and his mind decided it too could start working at its customary high intensity.

"Turn around" Derek hissed.

As the slender young man turned, Derek opened his eyes. Feasting on the sight of his 'Mr. Perfect's' back, his eyes slowly made their way down Reid's spine, lingering lovingly on Reid's pale behind. Even though he knew it was a strain on his hard earned control, Derek gave himself a few minutes to imagine all of the fun he was going to have with that butt once it was time. His mouth watering, feeling his lower body beginning to respond to his thoughts, Derek reluctantly dropped his eyes to Reid's newly smooth thin legs.

"Bend over."

'OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD.' Reid's mind shrieked at him, once again his control wavering. Against his will, Reid's body began to shake as he bent forward at the waist, and tried not to cry. 'Please no, please' he begged silently, terrified at what the man intended to do.

"Move your feet apart a bit more"

Sucking in a quick breath, Derek knew he'd have to move fast now; with his new 'boyfriend' in such an enticing position, his self-control would be sorely tested again. The view now created was feeding the lust that had been rebuilding ever since he had made his future sex toy widen his stance. Derek quickly moved behind Reid so he could touch test his legs, and the sudden craving for more hit him like a ton of bricks. Inhaling Reid's intoxicating scent, a mixture of sweat and fear, Derek could not resist moving his head closer to Reid's sweet behind and giving it a soft lick. Immediately every muscle in Reid's body tensed up, his stomach cramping painfully with dread. Derek's muscles had also tensed as the urge to bite Reid's butt became a deep craving.

Moving back to the chair, Derek knew he had to leave soon. 'Just get the punishment over with, and then get upstairs for your own.' Derek went to pick up his truncheon that he had brought downstairs with him, the same one he had used on Doug Bronson, when he suddenly remembered his camera. Shaking his head at his own forgetfulness, Derek smiled wide.

"Spread your cheeks."

Ice seemed to develop instantly in Reid's veins. His mind literally froze along with his body. Trembling uncontrollably now, he moved his hands to his buttocks and pulled them apart. Moments later, to his utter shame, he once again felt his body's manifestation of fear trickle down his leg. Reid's nightmare continued as he heard a groan from behind him, then to his horror, the click of a camera. Totally humiliated, and scared to death, Reid felt his legs faltering.

"You are just so gorgeous. I should keep you nude all the time, sexy boy."

Before Reid's tormented mind could process what his captive had just said, Derek spoke again. "But I found two bristles, which means punishment" then he kicked Reid as hard as he could in the behind. Reid fell forward onto the cot, stunned.

Holding Reid down on the cot with a heavy forearm across his back, Derek started viciously beating him with the truncheon. Again and again, it whistled through the air as Derek used all his strength to deliver the blows to the backs of Reid's thighs and his hips. Reid cried out in pain, trying to twist away from the attack but unable to move under the pressure from Derek's arm. White hot lust now coursed through Derek, he strained and grunted as he meted out the brutal punishment. When he finally stopped, Derek retrieved his camera and carefully arranged Reid's poor battered legs for some pictures.

Derek grasped Reid by the hair and hauled him upright. "This is for not eating your oatmeal" Derek said, his voice sounding tight. As he delivered five powerful punches to Reid's midsection, Reid didn't resist; he was completely wracked with pain and beyond caring what happened. Derek threw him to the floor, quickly picked up the urine soaked pyjama bottoms, glanced at his own pants that now had a wet spot of their own in the front, and hurried to the door, anxious to get upstairs, post his pictures, and have some fun. As he closed the door, he informed Reid there would be no more food today, and then switched off the overhead light.

Reid slowly raised his head, his brain trying to make sense of what just happened. Moaning each time he moved, his brain forced his body to crawl up into the cot and wrap himself in the comforter. Every inch of him seemed to hurt, to ache, including his soul...

That evening, Derek lay in bed, in pain, pondering the absence of any reports about Reid's disappearance in the media. He had scoured the news websites, had gone out and purchased all of the daily papers, and not one mentioned the kidnapping of an FBI agent. Derek wondered if they were keeping it out of the public thinking it would be detrimental to the agent being held. Derek laughed, knowing nothing anyone said would change what he had planned for the luscious specimen currently in his basement turning a beautiful bruised purple.

As he turned, his thrashed back screamed in protest. He'd had to administer double lashes to himself because of the truncated shaving inspection and his loss of control. Derek had never had such trouble with this first game; he wondered if he'd be able to continue with the process, or if he'd have to get rid of his new 'boyfriend.' Although entirely convinced the Fates had delivered his 'Mr. Right' to him, Derek was worried he wouldn't be able to retain enough control of himself; he was afraid he might damage his prize before he got the chance to split him. And he wondered if he himself could take all the additional self-punishment having Reid here would mean. As if to highlight that thought, his back muscle went into a small spasm, creating bursts of pain to radiate through him.

As he reached for the aspirins he'd left beside his bed, Derek thought again of how Reid had looked standing naked, quivering with fear, and remembered that he'd tucked the damp pyjama bottoms under his pillow for future use; he knew any pain he might have to inflict on himself during the rest of the education was going to be more than worth it in the end...


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

JJ parked her car, feeling like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. She just could not believe it had been eight days since Reid had left the BAU. When they had landed back in Virginia this morning, Hotch had given her permission to go home to check on Henry, as Will had called to say he had a touch of cold, but now she was back at Quantico and feeling completely drained.

Like the rest of the team, JJ once again phoned Reid as soon as they landed; but this time the automated voice stated that his mail box was full. Which meant he obviously wasn't even picking up his messages anymore; he had completely shut them out. JJ sighed, depression worming its insidious tentacles through her brain; she just felt so helpless, knowing how upset Reid must have been all week, must still be, and being unable to help him. The tears, which had been plaguing all week, once again welled up in her blue eyes, as the never-ending guilt over her part in the prank squeezed her heart. Somehow, she just had to get Reid to listen, to accept her heartfelt apology; he had to let her help him get over the hurt. But how?

JJ unlocked the door to her office. Seeing the stack of cases waiting for her perusal, she decided to grab a large coffee before she began. As she reached the kitchenette she noticed Hotch leaning against the counter, his hand resting for a moment on his stomach. Worried there might be something seriously wrong with her boss, as she had been watching him favour his stomach for the last few days, she turned towards him.

The expression on Hotch's face as he glanced at her stopped her dead in her tracks. He'd never looked so grim, so intensely grim. Pain, along with something else, had folded his lips into his mouth; his dark brows were knitted so tightly he looked like he had a only one; the bags under his eyes so heavy and the dark circles so large they appeared to reach down his cheeks; his complexion so wan, JJ felt compelled to walk towards him again, anxious to find out what was happening. Then she looked directly into his eyes and fell back a few steps, the intense inner turmoil, anger tinged with pain, gave his eyes a look she had never seen before, and which scared her. Lowering her own shocked blue eyes to the floor, she swiftly got her coffee and fled the room.

Something was definitely going on with Hotch. She knew he was still livid with them over what they had done to Reid; they were all still angry with themselves for that. But the look in Hotch's eyes had gone beyond that. JJ knew the whole situation with Reid, coming so soon after the whole deadly incident with Foyet and Haley, would cause even the strongest person to waver; but it appeared there was something physically wrong with him also. JJ shivered as she remembered the heat that seemed to beam from his eyes, which had at the same time felt ice cold.

Tears welled up again at the thought that Hotch, someone she greatly liked and respected, felt such anger towards her; it was almost too much to bear on top of everything else. Sitting at the desk, JJ tried to push everything out of her mind so she could concentrate on the files in front of her. If Hotch was feeling so negatively towards the team, if something was affecting him that badly, the last thing she wanted to do was screw up her evaluations of the files and choose the wrong one for them to accept. She noticed five folders were marked Urgent. Opening the first one, JJ noted it was in Maine, and began to read….

Detective Green felt restless. He was trying to concentrate on his other cases; he currently had another murder case he was working on, and court notes to study for one of his previous cases he had solved, but his thoughts kept drifting to the files that had been forwarded to the FBI. He had no idea how quickly they would be assessed, or when he might be contacted. If luck was on his side, he could even hear something today; unlikely considering the number of files he imagined were sent in requesting assistance, but maybe Fate would step in to lend a hand with the decision making process. Green heaved a sigh, shifted in his seat, and once again tried to review his court notes, but soon gave up. Knowing his head would be on the John Doe, possible serial killer, case until he heard something, Green decided to pull some additional cold case files to see if there were any others similar to his and the two Hanson had already given him. Maybe if he could find more possible victims, it would boost the chances of having his file be selected…..

JJ lifted her arms over head, stretching her back. She'd been reading the documentation in each of the files marked Urgent for the last hour or so, and her eyes were starting to blur. She had finished three, laying aside the Maine one as a possible. Closing her eyes for a moment, she replayed the scene in the kitchen this morning. She wondered if gathering the team together to discuss the Reid situation would be beneficial, to Hotch and everyone else. Will had actually made the suggestion last night; she had called him from the hotel as she once again had been restlessly tossing and turning in bed. Will figured if she was in this much distress over the video and Reid's subsequent silence, most probably the others were too;

Hotch's demeanour seemed to back up Will's theory. He felt that as painful as it would be, it was better to hash things out in the open, instead of each one suffering by themselves. JJ decided to speak to Rossi about it later; she respected his opinion as an experienced senior profiler; and since he was also a long time friend of Hotch's, he might be able to get him to agree where the others wouldn't.

JJ opened the next file. Noting it was local, she secretly hoped they would take this case, as it meant they wouldn't have to travel out of the city, affording them more of an opportunity to try and contact Reid. 'This could be a bad one.' JJ thought as she quickly scanned the outlines of each of the three cases, which the police suspected might be connected, possibly indicating a serial killer. The chief of police had added a note to say additional cases might be likely. JJ flipped through the autopsy pictures, her stomach turning over as she got to the ones of the latest victim. Seeing the state of the poor man's bashed in face, and shredded fingertips, along with the other close up shots of torture, JJ had almost reached the conclusion that this would definitely be the BAU's next case, when she got to the coroner's report.

Skimming down the document, she read one of the last lines of the report, and her blood instantly turned to ice water. Trying to gasp in a breath, JJ felt her lungs squeezing with effort, the air in her office suddenly feeling too thin to inhale. "The word REID carved into foot post mortem." JJ read out loud, reluctantly trying to get the words to penetrate her brain, as her mind shrieked NONONONONONONONONO. Hands shaking, JJ looked through the pictures gain, trying to find the one she'd missed the first time. Unbelieving she started at the colour photo, the white skin, so obviously the sole of a foot, and there they were the letters REID. "It can't be him, please God, it can't be him" she whispered repeatedly as she shoved everything back in the folders, stood up and ran down the hall towards Hotch's office….

Rossi strode into Hotch's office and was completely taken aback when Hotch lifted his head up. "You look like hell, Aaron, what's going on? Is it still your gut?" Rossi, who had known Hotch for years, had never seen him like this; Rossi wondered if there was actually a medical issue at play.

Hotch nodded, "It had been steadily worsening through the weekend, then yesterday it became intense. By last night the pain was unbearable. Something's wrong Dave, something is seriously wrong with Reid, I know it."

Rossi had just opened his mouth to say there was no way of knowing if what was affecting Hotch really had anything to do with Reid until they could get a hold of him, when JJ came flying into the office. For the second time in just over a minute, Rossi was taken aback; the usually calm, collected, unflappable JJ, able to face down hordes of jackals disguised as reporters, looked white as a sheet, appeared completely flustered. Silently, unable to speak as her throat was full of unshed tears, she handed the folders to Hotch. As he opened the file and began to scan the documents, she managed to croak out, "Last lines of coroner's report." Rossi, in an unusual move for him, stepped around Hotch's desk so that he could read the file over his shoulder; Rossi felt like massive blow landed into his own midsection.

"It's him Dave, I know it." Hotch's voice sounded amazingly calm, too calm, dead calm; like he'd been expecting the worse and now had his definitive proof.

"Prepare the files and gather the team, including Garcia. Don't hand them out until I tell you." Hotch's flat tone reflected none of the myriad of emotions swirling around his brain. Once JJ had quietly left the room, stunned that she had not been reassured by her boss that there was no way this could have anything to do with their sweet Reid.

"It's him Dave." Hotch's voice still a dull monotone. As he felt the nausea hit him like a tidal wave, as an incredible weight pressed down on his shoulders, he wished Dave would get the hell out of his office.

"You can't know that for sure until the body is identified." Rossi kept his tone neutral, professional. "I'll go to the morgue as soon as you've briefed the team." Hotch, who had cringed as Rossi spoke of 'the body' immediately declared he was the Unit Chief and he would be going to the morgue.

Watching his friend swallow the bile Rossi knew was rising up Hotch's throat, he said with authority, "I don't care if you're the Unit Chief, Section Chief, Director or the President himself, you are in no shape to go to the morgue to determine if a tortured, mutilated body is a possible well-liked colleague." In a quieter, softer tone he added, "If it is him, Aaron, better you don't see him like that just now, while your gut is on fire. Besides a lot of people have the last name Reid, and remember, it can be used as a first name too. So there's no reason for us to even be considering that the victim is our Reid."

Rossi realized he was trying to reassure himself as much as Hotch; he had grown quite fond of the tall, awkward genius and felt a bit sick himself about the possibility of the extremely damaged corpse in the morgue being him. As he fingered the small gold cross he wore around his neck, Rossi wondered how he could possibly tell the team, if it was indeed the cold dead body of their beloved teammate.


	27. Chapter 27

**NOTE: My apologies for the delay in posting, last weekend was our family reunion. Thanks for your wonderful reviews, they are all very much appreciated.**

**Chapter 27**

"Aaron, wait." Hotch paused, turning to face Rossi.

"There's something I don't understand about all of this. Why do you seem to have such a strong connection with Reid?" Rossi finally asking the question that had been bothering him for days.

Hotch moved over to the leather couch in his office, sat down, put his elbows on his knees, and rested his head in his hands. "I've been trying to figure that out myself, all week. I just don't know. I like and respect Reid, as much as the rest of the team does. But he's much closer to the others, Morgan, JJ. I don't know why this is happening to me."

Rossi sat beside him, silent for a moment, thinking, then asked, "Reid's about the same age as your brother Sean, right?"

Hotch nodded, so Rossi continued his train of thought, "What's your relationship like with him?"

"Not bad, now. It was strained for a while when he decided against law as a career, but we get along fine, when we see each other ."

Rossi considered for a moment, then asked, "What about when you were kids?"

"Well." Hotch finally looked up at his friend, "We were never really kids together. His father was my mother's second husband, and there's such a wide age gap between us, that by the time I left the house for college, he was barely in grade school. I never actually saw very much of him after that."

"And how old was he when your stepfather passed away?"

"Thirteen. I was extremely busy with my law practice in the city then, just deciding whether to join law enforcement. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to be around as much as I wanted to through his teenage years."

"And you feel guilty about that."

"Very, especially now, knowing what I know about teenage boys who've lost their fathers at a young age."

"Like Reid essentially did," Rossi said, almost to himself. Hotch glanced quickly at Rossi, then away.

Rossi continued his line analysis, out loud, "So you carried a lot of guilt about not being there for Sean. Then Reid joins the BAU. He's an intellectual genius; but emotionally stunted, with the social skills of a young adolescent. So you have a second chance."

Hotch, his own mind turning, said, "But Gideon mentored him. So I didn't have to take that role. Then we found out about his mother, and pieces of his strange childhood."

Rossi, his eyes staring unseeing at the far wall, his mind working hard, asked, "How did you feel when he was kidnapped by Hankle?"

Hotch answered immediately, "Guilty. I was upset that it had happened of course, as we all were; and extremely upset with myself for not working harder to teach Reid emotional strength. You'll never know how relieved I was that he made it." Hotch felt a flash of grief as he remembered those horrific two days.

"So your guilt was building in regards to Reid, similar to the guilt you carry about Sean."

"When Gideon left, I wanted to step into his role with Reid, but it was when Hailey and I were splitting up, so I never really did. And when I knew he was on drugs, I stayed back, didn't try to help. I thought if I acknowledged his addiction, I'd have to follow regulations and remove from the BAU." Hotch's voice had become hoarse with emotion, he once again held his head in his hands.

Rossi patted him on the back, "It's all making sense now. Emotionally, Sean and Reid are the same to you. Men who you feel you failed, who you should of helped but didn't."

Rossi continued, his voice low, calm, "And now, when you're so raw and vulnerable from Hailey's death, Foyet's death, your internal system is on hypersensitive overdrive; you've developed a kind of sixth sense, regarding Reid."

Hotch looked up, a small sign of relief on his face, glad that at least that part of the mystery seemed to be explained. He still felt wretched, but it least he had a semblance of a reason why; although he also knew it seemed to confirm that something was definitely wrong with Reid, hence his extreme negative physical reaction.

"I think you need to talk someone, Aaron, a professional. You have a lot of emotional baggage you're carrying around, it's a heavy load for anyone's shoulders."

Hotch stood up, "I will Dave, once we've finish this case. And thanks, I appreciate your help."

As he watched Hotch enter the room, Morgan was surprised to see him looking so haggard. Noticing that Hotch kept his eyes averted from the team, who were now all seated at the table waiting for information, Morgan had a sinking feeling that this new case must be exceptionally bad. Morgan had been hoping that once they got back from Atlanta, the BAU wouldn't get another assignment right away. He had decided, while sitting on jet back to Quantico, that he was going to speak to Reid this week, no excuses. If Reid refused to answer his phone, then Morgan was going to go to his apartment and kick his door down.

Morgan knew his friend would be hurting, badly; Morgan also knew he would never forgive himself, never, for being the cause of that hurt. But Morgan was also carrying added guilt, for not stepping in when he knew something was wrong with Reid three years ago; it turned out Reid had been in the throes of a serious drug addiction. If he was honest with himself, Morgan had suspected as much at the time, but had, for some inexplicable reason, been reluctant to confront Reid about it. Reid had been Morgan's 'little brother' for years, but Morgan had failed him.

Morgan knew Reid would be suffering after what had happened; he, more than the others, knew about Reid's painful past. He knew the depths of pain and humiliation Reid would be feeling now knowing that a video had been made by his friends, had been posted on the Internet for the world to see, and which had forced him to quit the job he loved. Morgan clenched his fists on his lap as intense anger flared up; anger at himself for being so stupid, for betraying the trust of his most sensitive, vulnerable friend. Morgan was determined not to let another week go by with no communication. Hoping the new case could be resolved quickly, Morgan turned to face Hotch, who was now standing, along with Rossi, at the head of the table.

Moments later, Morgan, Prentiss and Garcia, who had joined them in the conference room, began exchanging questioning looks. Each wondered why Hotch was still silent, and why Rossi was standing beside him instead of sitting at the table. An audible sigh sounded in the room when JJ finally arrived with case files under her arm. Prentiss, who had been taken aback at how bad Hotch looked, was shocked to see JJ's countenance. She looked as if she'd been crying, her face both flushed and mottled, her eyes so puffy Prentiss was surprised she could see out of them. 'Something very bad's happened' Prentiss thought, as the atmosphere in the room seemed to become heavier. She moved her glance over to where Hotch and Rossi stood. 'Was Rossi giving Hotch a pat on the back? What the hell was going on here?' Prentiss felt herself tense unconsciously, as if her body was getting ready to receive a blow.

"We have a new case." Hotch's voice sounded different; calm, professional as always, but with a hint of something else slithering through it, something that created a cold chill which raced up Prentiss's spine, and made Morgan straighten up in his seat, his brows furrowing.

Taking a small breath, Hotch continued, "Its local, about an hour away." Morgan was happy to hear that; maybe he'd still be able to get to Reid's today or tomorrow.

"It involves a recent John Doe homicide, discovered Saturday, early morning, that the police feel may be the work of a serial killer. The file included 2 other cold cases that have distinct similarities to the most recent attack. You'll have time to review the files briefly before we leave." Again Prentiss, Garcia and Morgan exchanged looks. Why wasn't JJ handing out the files so they could be discussed here and now?...

In and out of the enveloping darkness, Reid's mind struggled against his brain for the rest of that terrible day. His body aching, he only moved twice off of the cot, one of those times to vomit. Vaguely, Reid sensed he was at a turning point; his brain wanting to push him deeper into a more permanent twilight, keeping him distanced from any future mental and physical assaults. His mind still fought against it, not wanting to disconnect, but also afraid of eventually being cracked by the physical and emotional violence he would be forced to endure.

Reid heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and realized it must be a new day. In the room, lighted only by his nightlight, day and night were nonexistent. Forcing himself to struggle out of the cot, he swayed on his feet, his head spinning, his comforter wrapped completely around him. He found his eyes took a while to focus properly; idling wondering if it was caused from hunger, and immobility, Reid pondered if he cared or not.

Derek came into the room bearing the breakfast tray. Turning on the overhead light, he was glad to see his 'boyfriend' already standing, as he didn't want to have to punish him this morning. As much as he would enjoy it, Derek's own back was still hurting from his self-punishment yesterday, and he didn't want to go through that again already if he lost control again now.

"Turn around"

Reid shuffled around, drawing his comforter tighter around his naked body, and trembling just a tad. Derek pulled out his camera, his own hands trembling slightly as he got himself mentally ready to see Reid's nude body again.

"Move your comforter off so I can see your legs."

Slowly, extremely reluctantly, Reid pulled his comforter off, scrunching it against the front of his body and under his chin. Holding his breath, he waited to see what indignities he might have to suffer now.

Derek hissed in a breath, his resolve beginning to splinter. 'How can I not touch him?' he thought, but knew he had to keep his distance. It's was just that the legs had turned such a glorious shade of purple; a tempting, so tempting purple. One of Derek's favourite games involved pinching and scratching his boyfriend's bruises to see how long it took to make them beg for mercy. Derek loved that game. Thinking of playing it now with his 'Mr. Perfect' was causing heat to once again fill Derek's body, so he quickly took his pictures and turned to leave.

As he reached the safety of the door, he instructed, "Turn around, stay covered."

Reid turned, his face expressionless, his comforter against him.

"I brought you the watch you wanted. What do you say?"

"Thank you, d..d..darling D..Derek."

Reid's voice was thin, and quiet; his eyes seeming to be both blank, and filled with some unidentifiable emotion.

Derek smiled to himself as he raced up the stairs to post these latest pictures on his favourite kink websites. He'd seen that look before, numerous times, and wondered which side of the mental fence his new possession would fall off of.


	28. Chapter 28

"_Spencer."_

"_Mom?"_

"_Spencer, why are you thinking about leaving?"_

"_It hurts, Mom."_

"_I know baby, but I want you to stay."_

"_It's so hard, Mom, too hard."_

"_Are you weak Spencer, like your father? "_

"_No Mom, I'm not weak. But everything really hurts, inside, outside. I hurt Mom."_

"_Spencer, you need to stay, fight, survive, escape."_

"_I don't know if I can, Mom."_

"_Please Spencer, please don't leave me. I need you here. I don't want to be alone."_

"_I'm sorry, Mom."_

"_Spencer, please. Please don't leave, I need you, baby. I love you."_

"_I'll try Mom."_

As he gazed intently at the computer screen, Derek Danger wondered what his 'boyfriend' was saying. The camera Derek had permanently trained on the cot in his basement recorded sound, but his 'Reid' was speaking so quietly it could not be picked up. Derek always used the latest technology available for his basement rooms, so he knew his young friend must be doing not much more than moving his lips; Derek was extremely interested in knowing what he was saying.

Derek had promised himself he would not sit in front of this particular computer all day, as he had sometimes done in the past with previous companions, because he knew, with this possession, it would instantly become a necessary compulsion. Instead, he spent hours each evening, fast forwarding through what was recorded, searching for only one thing, his own personal video of his 'Mr. Perfect' masturbating.

Truth be told, Derek was kind of surprised he hadn't captured his new 'boyfriend' committing that act yet; he had been here for nearly three days already. Derek knew, of course, that later he intended to force his 'Reid' to perform a live show for him, although Derek was unsure how he would be able to control himself while he watched; but he'd been hoping, during these first few days, to at least be able to see and hear his new 'boyfriend' on screen, pleasuring himself in Derek's own house.

The fact that the young man downstairs had seemed pensive this morning, uncertain of a direction, had resulted in Derek deciding to check out the live feed. Derek wanted to see how his 'Mr. Right's' indecisiveness about how to mentally handle his new situation would manifest itself with a genius FBI agent. "God, I wish I could hear him" Derek moaned out loud, frustration starting to build. Forcing himself to refocus, before he got beyond control, Derek pondered when his new man might start touching himself. Suddenly he realized how he might increase his own visual enjoyment when the time finally came…

Morgan's brain took a second to repeat to itself the incredible, ridiculous, absolutely, positively, impossible statement that had just come out of Hotch's mouth. For some unknown reason, Hotch was trying to tell them that his Reid, his 'baby bro' might somehow have gotten his name carved into a dead foot, might in fact be the owner of the dead foot. Exactly one second later, Morgan's reaction was explosive.

**CRASH**

Morgan's chair slammed into the wall and tipped over, its wheels spinning madly, as he flung himself up and towards the closed door. His entire body tightened up, as he ran; his stomach clenching so tightly it hurt, his heart squeezing in his chest so hard it brought tears to his eyes.

"Reid is not dead!" he shouted as he reached to door, his extreme anger palpable. Rossi, who had hustled to the door ahead of him, now stood in front of the doorknob refusing to move, even through Morgan raised his fist and looked prepared to punch him out of the way.

"Sit down Morgan." Hotch said in a quiet, hard voice; his face contorted in disgust for an instant, before he smoothed it down in to a blank expression.

Hotch knew he was being unfair, but his anger towards the group that had hurt Reid had only been growing with each passing day, enhanced by his own physical decline. Morgan's violent reaction, although expected by both he and Rossi, which was why Rossi had gotten to the door so fast, seemed to act like another hot poker to his gut. He just could not summon enough emotion to feel sorry for them, he couldn't bring himself to soften the dreadful revelation with any words of assurance. Especially when he himself was certain the body was, indeed, their beloved genius.

Luckily, Rossi stepped up to the plate. Realizing the situation would rapidly spiral out of control, he tried to reign in the intensely violent energy that seemed to be crackling through the room. Using the calmest voice he could muster under the circumstances he spoke to Morgan, "Please Derek, sit down. This won't help. Let me explain our plan."

Morgan, breathing heavily as he tried to suppress his rage, his bewilderment at what was happening here, and his totally overwhelming sense of helplessness, turned his frantic eyes to Rossi's, and let himself be slightly soothed by the calm intelligence he saw within their depths.

Prentiss also turned her own uncomprehending eyes from Garcia, who sat with tears running like rivers down her face, repeating "No no, not my baby genius, no, no, not my junior G man…, towards Rossi, somehow realizing he would be the one to tell them what was actually going on. Because there was no way, just no way in hell, she would believe what Hotch was implying. 'No' her mind had stated, refusing to accept that another close friend may have been murdered. More than a friend, if she was honest, more like a brother; a younger brother; a sweet, annoying, vulnerable, pest of a brother who she, like the others, loved.

Prentiss felt completely numb, ice cold numb. She tried to focus on what Rossi was saying, tried to move her mind off of the one thought that dominated it at the moment, 'Which compartment do I put this into?'

"Everyone, we need to stay calm, focused. I'm going straight to the morgue from here and will let Hotch know if…" Rossi faltered for just a moment, his own emotions coming to the fore for a second, "I'll let Hotch know what I find out. We may all be jumping to some pretty negative conclusions here, making assumptions that are nothing at all to do with reality. Let me just remind everyone that any number of people have the last name 'Reid', and it also can be used for a first name. Let's try to temper our reactions until we get some definite proof that this case has anything to do with...", another moment's pause, "..with our absent team member." Rossi audibly let out a breath, hoping his words had some affect….

Reid stood watching his captor bring in his lunch tray, still feeling somewhat detached, but trying to maintain his somewhat tentative renewed resolve to survive and escape. Eyeing the bundle the large man had under his arm, he quietly sighed in relief as he realized he could see his pajamas along with some other clothing. He'd been afraid that he would be kept naked, with only the comforter to cover himself.

"Here's your pajamas, washed and ironed."

Reid forced himself to look into his captor's eyes, wanting him to see that Reid had not been broken. "Thank you d..darling D..D..Derek."

Reid cursed himself for not being able to get out those words without hesitations.

"I brought you some clothes to change into."

"Thank you d..d..darling D..Derek"

Reid's eyes flicked from the man's face to the bundle, and in that instant Derek made his move.

"Do you love me?" he asked while stepping towards Reid.

"No" was the immediate, instinctual response, which Reid regretted as soon as he spoke.

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

SMACK

Reid's head was whipped back and forth as Derek viciously slapped each side of his face in turn. Cheeks now burning bright red, ears ringing, Reid turned large, pain-filled eyes towards his captor.

"Your punishment for that grossly incorrect answer will be completed after lunch."

Derek, needing to quickly get upstairs to his own waiting food so he would stay on schedule, smiled wide as he headed for the door; the anticipation of what was to come causing his body to shiver with excitement, and his mouth to water…

The hallway down to the morgue seemed as long as the Great Wall of China to Rossi as he trudged ever slower towards the room he really wished he didn't have to go into. All the way down here, he'd been fighting a silent battle with himself; one side insisting that there was no reason whatsoever to believe that the poor unfortunate soul on the cold, hard metal tray was Spencer Reid; the other side insisting it probably was and he had better get himself mentally prepared for the inevitable, and for how he would tell Hotch the devastating news.

Taking a deep breath, willing his heartbeat to slow down, Rossi pushed open the door, his hand extending automatically towards the coroner who was standing beside the metal door. Rossi, who had called ahead to say he was coming, now listened to the coroner express his profound hope that Rossi and his team would find the son-of-a-bitch who had murdered the John Doe, as in all his years as coroner he had never seen a body that had suffered so many indignities both pre and post mortem. The coroner opened the door, and pulled out the metal tray bearing the deceased.

Rossi almost closed his eyes as the coroner began lowering the sheet. The first thing he saw was the completely bashed in face, and for a moment Rossi thought he was going to throw up right there and then, his mind forcing him to imagine the pain the man must have endured during the beating, as the report had indicated most of the damage had been done before death.

As the sheet was pulled ever lower, Rossi unconsciously held his breath. Then he stayed the coroner's hand as he reached the corpses' stomach. Flinging a harsh, "I'll be right back" at the startled man, Rossi rushed out the door, his cell in his hand.

"Hotchner"

"It's not him. Aaron, it's not him." Rossi unashamedly swiped the back of his hand across his suddenly damp eyes; the tensions of the day starting to ease a little.

"Hopefully he can shed some light on why his name is on the foot of a murder victim. And make sure he knows we miss him, and need him." Hotch's voice reflected his immense relief that the body was not their Reid. Still, Rossi could also hear the strained concern that Reid was still in some kind of trouble.

As he made his way back into the room, already forming questions that he wanted to ask the coroner, Rossi phoned Reid hoping he'd pick up, but expecting he wouldn't. As he listened to the woman's voice informing him the message box for this number was full and please hang up, Rossi knew he was in for a tough time when, as he and Hotch had discussed, he went directly to Reid's apartment as soon as he was finished here.


	29. Chapter 29

**NOTE: Thanks for your wonderful reviews; they are all very much appreciated!**

**Chapter 29**

Just before he'd answered the phone call from Rossi, Detective Green had handed Hotch the file of another possible victim of their Unsub that he'd discovered during his search that morning. This file was what Hotch reflexively crushed with his left hand as Rossi told him the good news, the body wasn't Reid. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Hotch spoke to Rossi, closed his phone, then faced the others who waited in terror of what Rossi had said.

"It's not him."

The relief in Hotch's voice was reflected in the simultaneous sigh emitted by the other agents. Green, unaware of what it all meant, looked confused, 'Who are they talking about?' he wondered.

"Detective, we'll need a place to set up. Our other colleague, Agent Rossi, is currently at the morgue consulting with the coroner about the latest John Doe and will be joining us shortly." Following Green down the hall towards the room he had set up for the FBI agents to use, Hotch started giving out instructions.

"Prentiss, I want you to make a timeline with all of the known victims. Morgan, you need to go over every wound, type, location, size, possible weapon; list those that currently only appear on one victim, and those that appear on multiple victims. We can all be certain that there are more bodies out there somewhere, and we'll need a concise list for Garcia so she can begin searching through databases. JJ, talk to your contacts in the press, let them know we'll be involved with finding the murderer of the latest victim. Hopefully, letting the Unsub know we're searching for him will cause him to try and make contact. If nothing else, he might want to brag about his conquests."

As Hotch entered the room, the others hurried to begin their assigned tasks. Everyone felt immensely relieved, happier, lighter somehow, knowing that Reid was not the unknown victim. But Hotch couldn't shake the oppressive weight of doubt, he knew something was still wrong concerning their youngest teammate…..

Reid didn't know how he was managing to choke down his lunch. His face was burning from the brutal slaps; his stomach gripping painfully as the words of his captive rang in his ears, he was going to continue being punished after lunch. Swallowing hard when his food threatened to come back up after each bite, Reid tried to keep his mind from imagining what the additional punishment might consist of…..

As Rossi pressed the buzzer marked Building Manager, he continued to compose questions he wanted to ask Reid. He knew he'd have to tread very carefully with the sensitive young genius, as he would probably still be very hurt, very depressed about what had happened, about what the others had done. Rossi knew Reid would be emotionally damaged by the betrayal, and the embarrassment of the situation, so Rossi was trying to figure out what would be the best possible way to firstly get Reid to talk to him at all; secondly probe his brain about their latest case, hopefully convincing him to join them at the station; thirdly, and more importantly, start discussing 'the event', and how the others might start trying to win back his trust and friendship.

"Yes" Rossi heard the brusque tone and instinctively his attitude changed.

"FBI. I'm here to speak to one of your tenants." Rossi voice, though calm and professional, had a distinct bite to it; the listener would have known following instructions would definitely in his best interest.

Rossi watched, keeping his face impassive, as a large, dishevelled man lumbered over to the door of the building and let him into the foyer. A young boy, that Rossi immediately noticed kept an arm's length away, followed the man to the door. Rossi flashed his badge, then commenting that he already knew the apartment number he wanted, made his way over to the elevators. The manager, pissed that he'd had to leave his pizza to grow cold as he let this jumped-up security guard into his building, sneered at Rossi, mumbled something about working class people's tax money going to unnecessary government agencies whose members wouldn't know what a hard day's work was if it bit them on the ass, then plodded back to his apartment, yelling at his son to stop being a nuisance and get out of his way.

Rossi shook his head in disgust, then noticed the young boy had joined him in front of the elevator. Once inside the elevator, Robbie turned to Rossi and stated, "My mom's got a headache so I stayed home from school to watch my sisters. They're having their naps right now. Are you going to report me to the principal?"

Rossi, not really wanting the company of a chatty child, but figuring the poor kid probably lead a dog's life with that revolting father of his, glanced down, "No kid, I'm not interested in being a truancy officer."

"Are you here to see Mr. Reid? He works for the FBI too" Robbie asked curiously.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am" Rossi answered as the door of the elevator opened on Reid's floor.

"We're good friends. Mr. Reid tells me all sorts of stories about his cases. I'm going to be an FBI agent when I grow up." Robbie said confidently, walking down the hall beside Rossi.

Rossi was surprised. Reid was such a shy person, usually so awkward around other people in a social setting; it seemed odd to Rossi he would be friends with this kid. Rossi knocked on Reid's door, then a second time.

"Reid, its Rossi. Open up, I need to talk to you. About a case. It's important."

"He's not home." Rossi turned to face Robbie, his eyebrows raised in question.

Robbie had stood and watched the man knock on the apartment door, finding it surprising that someone who worked at the FBI office wouldn't know Mr. Reid was away on vacation.

"Why do you say that? How do you know?"

"He's gone away, on vacation."

"Vacation?"

"Sure. I' m feeding his fish."

"Fish?"

Rossi took a breath, as his mind began to tumble his thoughts around. Refocusing he softened his voice slightly, and asked, "How do you know Reid's on vacation?"

Robbie rolled his eyes, wasn't this guy listening? Sometimes Robbie wondered how adults got through the day, they all seemed so dopey to him.

"I just told you, I'm feeding his fish while he's away."

"Do you know where he went? When did he leave?"

"He called me Saturday night because he said he was leaving the next day. He didn't say where he was going, but he said he didn't know when he'd be back and to make sure I fed his fish every day so they wouldn't die before he got back."

Rossi pondered his next move. The kid obviously had a key to the apartment, so he could just go in and look around. On the other hand, if Reid did go away for a while, probably to Las Vegas Rossi surmised, then he wouldn't appreciate knowing Rossi had been inside his private residence for no reason. And Reid was already extremely upset with the BAU team as it was. Maybe the kid could tell him more.

"So, kid, does the apartment look like it normally does? Everything in its normal position?"

"Sure. I never moved anything. My Mom always says not to touch Mr. Reid's stuff. Just feed the fish and get out."

Rossi decided to call and let Hotch know the latest news, and decide if he wanted Rossi to go into the apartment. Since it was Hotch's gut instinct that was indicating something might be wrong, better he decide if they should invade Reid's privacy or not…

Hearing the footsteps coming down the stairs, Reid, now dressed in the clothes the man had brought him, rose on wobbly legs. Making a note of the time, he tried to stop his knees from buckling as the door to the room opened, and the man stood silently in the doorway for a few minutes, just letting his presence intimidate Reid. Reid, not wanting to appear weak, straightened his back, kept his eyes on his captive, and willed his mind to stay sharp.

Derek Danger stared at his 'boyfriend', exalting in the show of strength that Reid exhibited, when he knew very well that the skinny young man had probably worried about the threat of continued violence all through his lunch. Seeing that Reid had eaten all of his food, Derek made a mental note to praise his 'Mr. Perfect' later, for following the rules. Derek always liked to be fair with his new boyfriends, not just meting out punishment all the time, although he loved doing so.

"Remove your shirts and put your hands together."

Reid pulled off the sweatshirt and t-shirt he wore, hoping the man hadn't noticed the slight tremble in his fingers.

Derek sucked in his breath, trying not to sigh aloud, as he watched the cold air in the room harden his 'boyfriend's' nipples. Moving quickly he soon had a pair of cuffs secured around Reid's narrow wrists, and the chain unattached from the bed. Pulling the chain, he led Reid out of his room and through the door to the right; Reid moved his eyes around rapidly, committing everything he saw to memory, hoping he could eventually use the information to aid his escape. Derek secured the cuffs to a length of chain attached to the far wall, then pulled Reid's leg chain through a metal ring embedded in the floor.

Reid realized the room was lighted not only by the ceiling light, but also by a window high on the wall he was attached to. Wondering for a moment if this could be used in his plan to flee, his attention was soon returned to the situation at hand when Derek punched him in the eye.

"That should blacken nicely" Derek mumbled to himself as he backed up. Turning his head from one side to the other, like an artist studying a blank canvas searching for inspiration, Derek kept up a quiet running commentary to himself as he once again approached the shackled, terrified Reid.

As quick as a viper, Derek's hand shot out and he began forcefully twisting Reid's already slightly bruised nipple. Listening to Reid's cry of pain, Derek felt his body surging with excitement and lust. Knowing he absolutely had to stay in control, Derek said quietly, "You hurt my feelings when you said you didn't love me."

Then, still twisting and pulling with his right hand, he bent his head across Reid's chest and bit down as hard as he could on Reid's other nipple. Reid shrieked in agony, his body quivering now, his mind starting to rebel against the onslaught of pain. Stepping back, Derek licked the blood he'd drawn when he had broken the skin of Reid's chest off of his lip. "That's going to look gorgeous tomorrow."

Derek took out his camera and snapped some shots of Reid's marked chest. Moving to a drawer in the desk by the door, Reid watched in stunned silence as Derek lifted out a short handled horse whip. Moments later Reid's harsh screams rang in his own ears as Derek advanced towards him, his face beaming with unbridled excitement….

Slowly walking towards his car, Rossi made up his mind. Hotch, after discussing the situation with Rossi, had told him to come to the station. They had no real reason to go into Reid's apartment, and Hotch told him to leave if for now. But Rossi himself was feeling a bit uncomfortable about it all. So he finally decided to follow his own instincts and called Garcia.

"Hey Garcia, I need you to do something for me, strictly under the radar…"


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

As he gently wiped the warm, soapy water across his 'boyfriend's' chest, Derek Danger thought of how proud he was of the young man. Throughout the lashing, and for the four and a half hours he'd been left chained to the wall while Derek went back upstairs to work, Reid had not lost consciousness once.

Derek, having taken pictures right after the punishment, then again once he returned to the basement room, now carefully dried Reid's tortured torso, next applying antiseptic ointment to the long, red welts and the bitten nipple. As he picked up his camera for some additional 'after' shots, he heard himself unexpectedly say, "You may ask me a question."

Reid slowly turned his pale, tear-stained face towards Derek, and in a raspy whisper that made his raw throat burn, "Why are you doing this to me?" It hadn't been the next question on the mental list he had previously devised, but he was acting on pure instinct right now, his mind and brain too overwhelmed from the excruciating pain he'd endured, to react.

"Because I love you" Derek answered, surprised his 'Mr. Right' wouldn't know that already, "I've wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you. I knew immediately that you were mine"...

Rossi closed his cell phone as he walked into the police station. As soon as he reached the room where Morgan, Prentiss and Hotch were working, he walked directly up to Hotch, saying flatly, "We need to talk."

Moments later, out in the hall, Rossi quickly explained what he'd discovered. "I had Garcia check out the activity on Reid's credit card."

"You had no right to do that Rossi, it's a gross violation of Reid's privacy, as well as being completely against regulations" Hotch responded immediately, anger flaring like a scratched match.

Rossi knew Hotch's wire thin control on his emotions today would make him hostile and defensive; Rossi also knew that nothing he told his friend would come as any surprise, since Hotch had been suspecting something was wrong for many days now.

"It was against regulations when we did the same thing to Reid's dad during the Riley Jenkins case, but we did it anyways to help out a team mate, and friend. We're doing this now for the same reason." Rossi let that sink in for a moment, then continued.

"Reid did book a flight to Las Vegas for Sunday morning. But there has been no other activity on the card since then. No hotel, no food, nothing."

"He may have booked a hotel when he got there, the charge wouldn't be on his card until he checked out." Hotch fought to keep his voice neutral and professional; but his stomach heaved at the news.

"True. But food? We both know how much Reid loves to eat, and I very much doubt he'd be eating all of his meals at the same hotel, charging them all to his room." Rossi, aware that time may be of the essence now, and not wanting Hotch to start grasping at straws trying to figure out an alternative answer to what they both feared the most, continued in a slightly harsher tone of voice, "Aaron, I want Garcia to find out if Reid made that flight."

Both men were well aware of what the consequences could be if Garcia was caught. Ever since 9/11, the airlines had tightened up their database security immensely. Garcia would have to work a little harder to hack into the computer systems, and if she was caught the Bureau would be in deep trouble. Protocol for legally retrieving any kind of flight information had to be followed to the letter; Hotch knew if he went ahead with this plan, Strauss would have the golden opportunity she had been waiting for, for a long time, to get rid of him, the Director would not take his side for something like this.

Hotch looked straight into Rossi's eyes, reading something in their deep brown depths that spoke to that part of him that had been in turmoil for a week, as he heard Rossi say quietly, "This just doesn't smell right to me, Aaron."

Knowing his reluctance was not down to any regulatory restrictions, but rather to an intense, all-encompassing fear of the truth, Hotch snapped open his cell, "Garcia, I want you to find out if Reid made his flight on Sunday, or any flights since Sunday."…

As Derek stepped back, Reid knew what was expected; lifting his eyes to meet his captors', he managed to whisper, "Thank you, dar..darling D..D..Derek."

Derek smiled, his face beaming, his finger still tingling from touching Reid's smooth chest. Happy that his handsome 'boyfriend' had known to thank him for taking care of his wounds without being prompted, and still puffed up with pride over his Reid's staying conscious all afternoon, Derek stroked his finger down the side of Reid's face, sliding it over to softly caress his swollen lip, then lightly touching the tip to the bruise beginning to darken near Reid's eye.

Reid trembled, his mind screaming silently 'Don't touch me, don't touch me.' All Reid wanted to do was curl up in his cot with his comforter; his brain was working overtime to try and curtail the pain still radiating from his torso, it didn't have time to try and process any of the new information Reid had just heard. Reid trembled again, as Derek leaned towards him.

Seeing, and feeling, Reid shiver as he touched his face, Derek felt a rush of joy and desire run through his veins. Completely misinterpreting the reaction, Derek thought Reid had been showing him how much he enjoyed Derek's touch. To Derek, it was definitive proof that he'd been right all along, this was his 'Mr. Right.'

Making sure he didn't let his mouth touch Reid's skin, because he knew the tenuous hold he currently had on himself would be snapped instantly, Derek whispered in his most seductive voice, "I know you want me right now, my gorgeous morsel, but you have to wait. Don't worry, I have so many plans for you, for us. Unfortunately, it's not time yet."

Unable to help himself, and hoping he wasn't taking too much of a chance, Derek moved his hand behind his new plaything and ran his fingertips down Reid's bony spine. Sucking in a breath, Derek let his hand slide under Reid's pants and continue its journey right to the very tip of Reid's spine. Now it was Derek's turn to quiver, as a burning lust flared in his groin. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand back, stepping away to regain himself.

Reid, who had been holding his own breath, but for a very different reason, suddenly felt warm tears begin, once again, to trickle down his face. His poor, completely overtaxed mind and body were beginning to unravel, control slipping swiftly away. Reid knew if this man didn't soon return him to the other room, he would completely collapse; and he had fought against that ever since he'd been chained to the wall after lunch.

Gazing at Reid's body, Derek once again congratulated himself on keeping himself restrained during the whipping. His intention had been to just enhance the sex appeal of his 'boyfriend' which he had certainly succeeded in doing, he thought to himself. He had only lashed Reid five times, but each one was long and deep, Derek having put his full strength behind them. Recalling the sweet, sweet sound of Reid's screams, Derek smiled, reliving the satisfying feel of the whip cutting into the soft skin of Reid's stomach and chest. How he'd managed to stop at five he would never know; usually when he played this game, his boyfriend's chest would end up shredded. 'Just more proof that this one is The One' he thought.

As Derek, finally, began to unchain Reid from the floor, his hands still attached to the wall, Derek suddenly remembered something. Rising, he commanded, "Open your mouth."

Reid automatically dropped his jaw, gagging and choking when his captor quickly thrust two fingers down his throat; then reddening in shame as, filled with terror, he once again dampened his pants when Derek said, "Just as I thought. We're going to have to fix that, I don't want you throwing up all over me"….

Rossi watched Hotch's face lose every speck of colour as he held his cell phone to his ear. It had been nearly thirty minutes before the call had come; now, it seemed, their worst fears had been realized. Getting on his own phone, Rossi told the receptionist at Quantico to get Kevin Lynch into Penelope Garcia's office immediately; he knew by the length of time it was taking for her to tell Hotch that Reid had not made his scheduled flight, or any flight, to Vegas, that the emotionally sensitive technical analyst was probably nearly hysterical. Rossi also made a mental note of Hotch's complete lack of response to Garcia's emotional state, which was entirely out of character for him.

Hotch turned to Rossi, his eyes like two hard black pebbles sunk deeply into his now snow white face, nodded once, then turned towards the room where the rest of the BAU were discussing the current Unsub. Minutes later, in the most ice cold, completely devoid of any emotion voice Rossi had ever heard in his entire life, Hotch announced, "Reid is missing," then moved to the board to study the picture of the carved foot, totally ignoring the myriad of reactions his news had caused….

Since he was too excited to sleep, Derek decided to read some more of the comments that had been posted about his most recent pictures he'd downloaded. He knew Reid's chest and stomach series would be appreciated by his fellow followers of the kink sites, but the response had been phenomenal; he even had people offering large wads of cash to have the opportunity to see his 'Mr. Perfect' in person, and one viewer had guaranteed him half a million dollars if he could spend one hour alone in a room with 'the delicious body.' Of course Derek had no intentions of letting anyone near his prize, but knowing so many others were craving what he had made it even sweeter.

Needing to see his most prized possession one more time before he went back to bed, Derek moved over to the computer that streamed the continuous video recorded by the camera aimed at the cot, just in time to hear a sobbing in his sleep Reid cry out, "Hotch, Hotch." 'Hotch?' Derek thought, puzzled, 'What does that mean?'


	31. Chapter 31

**NOTE: Thanks so much for reading my story. And a huge thanks for the wonderful reviews, your support is very much appreciated. Hopefully after this hectic month, I'll be able to try again to post twice weekly.**

**Chapter 31**

'Get the hell out of here.'

Following her brain's instructions, Prentiss stood up and made a hasty beeline for the door, intending to get as far away as possible. Rossi, who'd been watching Morgan as Hotch made his pronouncement, on alert for a repeat of his earlier reaction, caught her exit out of the corner of his eye. Since Morgan had stayed seated, Rossi quickly turned his attention to Prentiss, following her out the door.

"Emily" Rossi called to her rapidly retreating back. Once out of the confines of the meeting room, Prentiss had switched to her power-walk speed, thus moments later she was outside. Rossi, who had jogged through the station in pursuit, called again, this time his voice breathy as his breathing got a bit heavier, "Emily, please stop. Emily."

Prentiss slowed her speed, allowing Rossi to catch up, but she didn't stop; she couldn't. She knew if she stopped, if she stood still, the scream that had been building in her gut ever since Hotch had entered the meeting room with an expression on his face that rivalled the one he had worn after the Foyet/Haley incident, would not be quelled any longer. And Prentiss knew if she started screaming, she wouldn't be able to stop, never, not even when her throat was ripped raw and the sound reduced to a whisper.

Rossi touched her arm lightly as they walked around the block. He seemed to know instinctively not to insist they stop, but he also knew he had to get her refocused quickly, or she would completely shut herself down, and be of no use to the team while they searched for their missing colleague.

"I know what you're going through; everyone on the team feels the same way. But we have to pull our emotions back a bit, it's the only way we'll be able to analyse the profile and find Reid."

Rossi, deep down, had his own doubts about the team's ability to actually find the young genius before he ended up as just another cold case file, but he kept those buried deep inside, away from his consciousness.

"Listen, we don't even know yet if the Unsub we're looking for even has Reid. And…" Rossi found he suddenly had to swallow the bitter gorge that rose up his throat before he could continue"… if he does have our Reid, it doesn't mean he's gone." Rossi couldn't bring himself to use the word 'dead' as a picture of Reid's smiling, animated face flashed through his mind.

"You've read the files we have so far on this Unsub's other victims. Except for the most recent John Doe, they all had numerous older wounds, at various stages of healing. This indicates he keeps them for a length of time. We know for a fact that Reid was okay Saturday evening when he made a call to a neighbour; so it's only been a couple of days. There's still time to find him. But we have to all be here, all of us."

Rossi put his hand on Prentiss's shoulder, forcing her to stop moving. Tipping her face towards his own, Rossi's warm brown eyes stared into Prentiss's dark ones, that reflected her utter anguish despite still being dry, and spoke softly, "We all need to BE here, Emily, to find Reid."

Staring unseeing at the evidence board, Hotch recalled the time he and Reid had been locked in the cell with a serial killer intent on killing them; it was during the time that Haley had been pushing him to sign the divorce papers for a divorce he didn't even want; and Hotch had wanted, needed, to beat the crap out of the prisoner. But it had been Reid, Reid's vast intelligence, Reid's internal bravery that Hotch didn't think even Reid himself realized he had, that had saved them, saved him from doing something that would have had negative repercussions for a long time.

Morgan kept his hand moving, writing his list that he was making for Garcia so she could narrow her search in the various databases for their Unsub. When Hotch had come into the room and said that Reid was missing, Morgan had looked at him, thought 'Okay', and immediately resumed his task. He sensed Prentiss leave, Rossi right behind her. And he could hear JJ's gasping sobs, as she sat hugging herself, rocking slightly in her chair as if to comfort herself. But Morgan showed no response, just kept writing, reading the file, writing, reading another file, writing.

For a brief moment, his brain tried to focus on what Hotch had said. 'Pretty boy is missing' passed for an instant through Morgan's mind; but he didn't let it land. After what had happened earlier, when he'd let his mind run with the thought that Reid might be dead, Morgan unconsciously decided not to accept any other negative thoughts about his close friend. It was an impossibility that any one he was close to could be in the hands of the man who had committed the tortures and atrocities that he was currently reading about in these files, that he was looking at in the autopsy photos; Morgan's mind refused to accept it.

Hotch turned as he heard Rossi and Prentiss re-enter the room. Rossi, unsure if he should begin the discussion, was relieved to hear Hotch say in a firm voice, "Once everyone is seated, we need to begin. Morgan, I need you and Prentiss to start compiling a preliminary profile; focus on victimology for now, see if you can discover why the latest victim presents so differently from the rest. Also, Morgan, I want you to give what you have to Garcia so she can start a search for further victims; let her know your list is not complete yet, but time is of the essence and we need her to start as soon as possible. Rossi and I are going to head to…." Hotch stopped, his throat suddenly pinched together so tightly he could hardly breathe. Sweeping his gaze across the room, he mutely appealed to Rossi to continue.

"Hotch and I will call you as soon as we can. We'll have the FBI forensic team on site with us; we'll let you know if we find anything."

Rossi waited for Hotch to join him at the door, then clapped him on the shoulder as a small sign of support. Hotch, his expression grim, gave him a small nod and lead the way out of the station, fighting against his 'flight' instinct every step of the way, his gut tearing itself to shreds with anxiety…

Robbie watched his mother's face take on an extremely unusual expression. As she hung up the phone, she motioned for him to come over to her. Gripping his shoulders almost painfully, she asked him, "Why do the FBI want to speak to you?"R

Robbie's eyes widened at his mother's words. The FBI wanted to talk to him? 'Cool' he thought. Hunching his shoulders so his mother would loosen her grip, Robbie answered truthfully, "I don't know."

For the next 30 minutes, he kept a vigil at the window looking out to the front of the building, running often to his mother to announce, "Not here yet, Mom." He had never been so excited in all of his young life; pride that the FBI, the actual FBI, needed to talk to him kept his adrenaline high. It never occurred to him to wonder if it had anything to do with his friend, Mr. Reid. As far as Robbie was concerned, Reid was off somewhere enjoying himself on a vacation. When Robbie saw a large white van arrive, along with two police cars, his disappointment over the fact that they didn't have their lights and sirens going, was muted a moment later when the black SUV rolled up.

"This is it" Robbie whispered to himself, as he watched two men get out of the vehicle. The first man Robbie recognized from earlier in the day, he was the one that hadn't even known Mr. Reid was on vacation. The second man was dark, dark hair, dark eyes, dark expression. Suddenly Robbie's enthusiasm dimmed; he recognized that dark expression, it often settled on his father's face just before Robbie got punished. Maybe talking to the FBI wasn't going to be a rare treat after all, if he was going to be questioned by the mean one. As his mother left the apartment to let everyone into the lobby, Robbie hoped his friends weren't around to make fun of him as he grasped his mother's hand, nerves finally beginning to build...

Reid sat up in his cot, breathing heavily, his cry for Hotch ringing in his ears. Disoriented for a moment, as sometimes happens when you're awoken suddenly, it didn't take long for his brain to register two facts; one, he must have been calling out for Hotch in his sleep; and two his chest felt like it was on fire, and ached tremendously. Lying back down, Reid used the corner of his comforter to dry off his face, and then snuggled it up under his chin just like he used to do when he was very young and could hear his parents screaming at each other, which also used to cause his chest to ache tremendously.

'_Mom? Are you there? I need you Mom.'_

'_Stay strong, Baby. You'll be safe soon.'_

'_The pain is too much, Mom, too much.'_

'_You can handle it Spencer, you're a strong man. Use your brain, plan an escape.'_

'_I don't want to die here, Mom.'_

'_You are not going to die, do you hear me Spencer Reid? You are going to survive. I need you to survive.'_

Derek Danger watched Reid's lips move, once again unable to make out what his 'boyfriend' was saying. Frustration began to build like a small wind into a hurricane. 'What does hotch mean? What is he whispering about?' Flinging himself out of his chair, Derek stalked to the basement door, desperate to find out what secrets his 'Mr. Right' thought he could keep from him. Unfortunately for him, entering the basement after 9:00pm was strictly against the rules; he would just have to wait until breakfast the next day. Derek turned back to his computer resolving to get answers tomorrow, as well as determined that his new possession be made aware, without a shadow of a doubt, that he now belonged, body and soul, to Derek Danger.


	32. Chapter 32

**NOTE: Thanks for coming back to my story. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season.**

**Chapter 32**

Derek Danger flung open the door leading down to the basement rooms, where his 'boyfriend' lay unaware of Derek's rage; then stopped, teetering on the top step, both physically and mentally.

His chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, a very thin thread of Derek's common sense slowly made its way into his over-heated brain. Derek knew if he went down the steps, it was all over. The whole experience would have been for nothing. He would once again be unattached, alone, empty.

His rapidly beating heart finally beginning to decelerate, Derek's brain expanded around that initial thought. No way was he ready for this relationship to end, not by a long shot. He still had so much he wanted to do with his 'Mr. Perfect', so much he wanted to do to him. Plus, as an added bonus, he was working out perfectly for Derek's new obsession of posting pictures on the kink websites. People around the world were clamouring for more, begging Derek to submit shots showing even more horrific wounds. Derek had never felt so wanted in all his life.

Besides, the slender man downstairs was his Fate-decided destiny, Derek had recognized that right from the first minute he laid eyes on him. It would be stupid to destroy him now; sure he'd vent his ire, and have a hell of a lot of fun doing it; and he'd get some awesome shots to post of the damage. But after, Reid would be done, he'd be useless; Derek would have to split him, finish him and dispose of him.

It was that depressing thought which finally resulted in Derek closing the basement door and drifting over to his computer again; the thought of his new toy leaving the house, permanently. The thought that he wouldn't have anyone else to post pictures of for his new friends. Because Derek knew, somewhere deep in his tormented brain, that this 'boyfriend' was his last 'Mr. Perfect', 'Mr. Right', the one that would never be topped or replaced. When it was time for him to go, it would be time for Derek to go too; and Derek was definitely far from ready to go.

"You'll never know how lucky you are, my delicious darling," Derek whispered to the computer screen as he watched Reid gripping his comforter.

Then he moved over to his other computer so he could once again enjoy his favourite video; as his violent anger had, as it always did, made his body crave release...

It only took a few moments for Rossi to realize he'd have to take the lead with the young kid. As the two men approached Robbie and his mother, he saw the boy's face pale, his eyes growing wide with apprehension. Rossi knew Hotch's dark visage was the cause; even Robbie's mother took an involuntary step back as they reached the pair, and Rossi hoped Hotch would at least attempt to stop glowering.

"Hey kid, how's it going?" Rossi tried to make his voice as jovial as he could, but talking to children was not really his forte; Hotch, or one of the women on the team, where the ones that generally dealt with the non-adults.

Robbie stayed silent, wishing he was as young as his sisters so he could put a comforting thumb in his mouth. He watched the FBI agent turn to his mother.

"Thanks for letting us speak to your son, Mrs. Freeman. Again, I'm Agent Rossi, and this is my Unit Chief Agent Hotchner. As we discussed on the phone, I'd like Robbie to take us up to Agent Reid's apartment and show us his routine for feeding the fish. This officer here.." Rossi waved over one of the policemen, "..will ask you a few questions, if that's okay."

Robbie's mother felt a little overwhelmed. Although she had known that Mr. Reid worked for the FBI, these two men seemed like real agents, looked exactly as you'd expect an FBI agent to look, especially the dark, solemn one. Hesitating for just a minute, she nodded her assent, gave Robbie's hand an encouraging squeeze, and then led the other policeman towards her apartment.

Robbie, beginning to once again feel a bit of pride that the FBI needed his help, nonetheless trembled slightly as the taller man, the chief which Robbie knew meant the boss, turned his dark eyes towards him.

"We really appreciate your help, Robbie." Hotch had become aware of how he was coming across and forced his face to smooth down, gave Robbie a small smile.

Still wary, Robbie relaxed a bit, as the trio walked to the elevators. He was a gregarious, chatty child by nature, and by the time they arrived at the apartment door, much of his usual personality had returned.

"Mr. Reid and I are really good friends," Robbie said with obvious pride, "I'm the only one at school who has a friend in the FBI. When I grow up, that's where I'm going to work; me and Mr. Reid are going to be the best team ever, we're going to catch every single criminal."

"I'm sure you will." Hotch said with another small smile, but each of Robbie's words had struck his guts like a hammer, and he suddenly had the overwhelming urge to vomit. Hotch knew, even if Reid was still alive, they may not be able to find him in time. He swallowed hard, his face once more looking stern and forbidding as he tried to dampen down his fears.

"Is Mr. Reid in trouble? He wouldn't do anything bad, he's the best person I know." Robbie said, looking at Rossi, "Did he do something wrong on his vacation?"

"No, kid, he didn't. We just need to ask you a few questions, to, ah, clear up some mysteries." Rossi figured that would intrigue the child, and he was right.

Robbie's eyes lit up with excitement, self-importance straightening his shoulders. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just follow your usual routine, and we'll ask questions as you go along."

Hotch had once again regained his internal control. Softening his countenance as much as he could, he actually gave Robbie a genuine smile as Robbie talked the two agents through his actions, sounding much like a teacher instructing his students.

"Well, usually I open the door with the key, the spare key" Robbie held up the key for inspection, and both men stifled their amusement. Rossi nodded, so Robbie continued along the same vein as he opened the door and entered the apartment.

"Robbie, wait a second.." Hotch's words halted Robbie as he walked into the living room where the fish tank was, "Is this suitcase always here in the hall?"

Rolling his eyes and sighing as only a child can when an adult says something ridiculous, Robbie answered, "No. Mr. Reid changed his mind or something when he left for his trip. I haven't moved it, my mom said to never touch anything except the fish food when Mr. Reid is away."

Hotch and Rossi exchanged looks. Keeping their own counsel while Robbie was in the apartment, they followed him into the living room. This was the first time anyone from the Bureau had ever been inside Reid's home; both men were uncomfortably aware that Reid would hate every minute of their visit; he was such an extremely private person when it came to his personal life. Even Morgan, his closest friend on the team, had never been invited here.

Looking around, Hotch couldn't see anything that seemed out of place; it certainly didn't appear as if there had been any kind of struggle, or rushed exit. Trying hard not to profile Reid according to his possessions, he turned back to Robbie, and bent forward to watch the colourful fish race for the food the kid was shaking into the aquarium.

"Mr. Reid says watching fish has been scientifically proved to relax the human brain" Robbie stated, "And he says listening to the water pump is good for falling asleep since it's called, um.." Robbie wrinkled his brow for a moment, "It's called white noise. Mr. Reid is a genius, you know."

Hotch heard the obvious admiration in Robbie's voice, and was happy Reid had found someone he could talk to, even if it was a 10 year old child.

"So, kid, do the fish have names?" Rossi asked, and Robbie proceeded to point each one out, parroting the information Reid had told him about each type.

In the middle of Robbie's explanations, Hotch slid in a question, "So is this room pretty much how it always is? Nothing changed?"

"Nope, it's the same." Robbie answered quickly, returning to his fish lecture he was giving to Rossi, who felt like he was listening to a mini Reid.

"Have you gone into any of the other rooms Robbie?" Hotch asked.

"Well.." Robbie seemed a bit reluctant to answer, but with both men now staring at him, he decided he better be truthful because he didn't want to get into trouble with the FBI, "Don't tell my mom, but Mr. Reid said that when he was away, I could eat his food from the fridge, so, you know, it won't go bad." Robbie's eyes darted, as if his mother could overhear his confession.

"Did you go in the kitchen since Reid went away this time?"

"Only to eat the Jello."

"Was anything different in the kitchen?"

"Nope, except there was no cup or bowl."

Surprisingly Rossi seemed to know what Robbie meant by this, so moved on to his next question, "Did you ever see any of Reid's friends visiting him?"

"No."

Robbie, having finished feeding the fish, made for the door. Rossi moved to the hallway, putting his hand on Robbie's shoulder. "Just one more question Robbie. You say everything is normal in the apartment, except for this suitcase, which has been there since you came on Monday. "

Robbie nodded, looking up at Rossi. "When Reid called you on Saturday night, did he say specifically that he was going on vacation, or did he just say he`d be away?"

"He said, Robbie I need you to take care of the fish, I`m going away for a while, but I`m not sure for how long."

As Robbie left, after being assured by Rossi that he`d been a tremendous help, Rossi turned back to Hotch, who was on the phone with the forensic team, advising them to come up. They had wanted to wait until Robbie was gone before they started processing the apartment.

"Well, at least we have a time frame for his disappearance." Both men, having listened to Reid`s rambling on about the unhygienic process of drying dishes with a tea towel and how air drying was the preferred method, knew by Robbie`s statement of no cup in the kitchen that Reid had not been in his apartment Sunday morning. With the phone call, and packed case indicating he was in his apartment Saturday evening, they would have to assume he was actually taken from the apartment, sometime overnight Saturday.

"I`ll get Garcia to check his phone records to see if he may have been lured out with a call on Saturday night. And I`ll let the others know what`s going on. " Rossi spoke in a matter a fact voice, sensing Hotch`s pain at what was fast becoming obvious, "You should go down and see if Mrs. Freeman knows about any security cameras around the building. There might be something, or someone, on tape. "...

"Ùhn, uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn, aahhh... "

Derek cried out as his body, once again, reached its satisfaction at the same time as the man on the computer. Panting, Derek smiled, anticipating the pleasure he`d be having the next day as he played with the slender body below while he questioned Reid. "Maybe I`ll take a request," he thought opening up one of the kink sites where his `boyfriend` was a definite hit.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

As he prepared the meal, Derek Danger reflected on what he intended to do with his 'boyfriend' today. He knew he had to find out what or who 'hotch' was, and what Reid was whispering to himself. Derek felt his anger begin to burn anew as he thought about his 'boyfriend', his possession, having the nerve to whisper something he couldn't hear.

"He's mine. Mine. And he better fucking know it!" Derek shouted, slamming his fist on the counter.

Struggling to slow his breathing, Derek forced himself to calm down. Derek had known this one, this slender, gorgeous object, was going to be harder to break, had known it right from the start; and not just because he'd most likely received some training through the FBI. Oh, it was true Reid had bent a bit; Derek could see it in his eyes, and read it in his actions. But he was not broken, far from it, in spite of his wet eyes and wet pants.

His 'Mr. Right' was still unbowed, had his inner strength still intact, even though he'd abused his new 'plaything' a lot harder than most of the other possible long-term boyfriends; usually those men weren't whipped until the fourth day, provided they made it that far. Derek was well acquainted with broken men; all of his previous boyfriends had eventually succumbed. Unfortunately Derek wouldn't be able to fully 'satisfy' himself until his new playmate was also reduced to the same state. That was the rule and so that was the undisputed fact.

This being the case, Derek had decided to step up his game; he was just too anxious to get himself into his new sex toy to wait much longer. He intended to keep on with the physical pain, as it gave him such an extreme amount of enjoyment; but he would have to employ a few more humiliation tactics.

Physical pain could be endured, the human spirit could use it as a challenge to survive; will against will so to speak. But emotional pain, now that was much more difficult to fight against. Shame and humiliation were intense weapons and would completely break a person faster than any torture could; Derek should know, many of the tactics he used were ones he'd learned during his own childhood. Derek laughed at the fond memories.

Narrowing his eyes as he continued to smile, Derek wracked his brains for the best way to start his new strategy. It had to be done carefully, slowly, thoroughly. Muttering to himself now, he thought out his initial plan, remembering to include the request he'd decided to fulfill from the kink website…..

"There was a phone call," Hotch said quickly, his voice harsh and tight as he returned to Reid's apartment where Rossi was waiting, still in the living room. He'd decided to wait until the team was gathered before he ventured further into Reid's space.

As Rossi raised his brows in question, Hotch continued, "Mrs. Patterson took a call Saturday night from someone, a man with a Southern accent, who indicated he was an old college friend of Reid's."

Since this was, while not impossible, a most unlikely scenario, both men immediately assumed the caller had been the Unsub who'd taken Reid.

"Did she remember the exact conversation?"

"Most of it. The caller said he knew Reid lived in the building, and he just needed his apartment number. Said he wanted to catch up with his old friend," Hotch's tone while he spoke indicated exactly how he felt about the woman who had fallen for such drivel.

"She doesn't know Reid like we do, Aaron. It's not her fault," Rossi tried to smooth down Hotch's opinion of the building manager's wife as they would probably need her cooperation later.

"Did she have any other details?" Rossi asked, keeping his voice calm, professional, as he read the increased anger in Hotch's eyes, and observed the extreme agitation of his hands which he kept unconsciously moving.

It was a little unnerving to see the usually cool, unflappable, Hotch so surpressedly frantic, but Rossi knew Hotch had been hanging by his last thread even before all of this business with Reid and the sex video; Rossi hoped he'd make it through this case. Because they were going to need everyone's brain for this one, and the brain they could have used the most was gone.

"No. And she was unsure about the security cameras. She's trying to track down her husband."

Rossi turned as he heard Morgan tersely greet one of the crime scene techs. Hotch moved towards the small hallway which led to Reid's bedroom, unable to be with the rest of his team at the moment. Rossi knew Hotch's anger was fuelled by the fact that if the others hadn't made that disgusting sex video, Reid would have been with the team solving their case in Atlanta, instead of home alone. Logically it could be reasoned that if the Unsub had wanted Reid, he would have struck later, but Rossi knew when emotions were involved, logic and reason were not part of the equation.

Rossi gave Prentiss and Morgan a weak smile of greeting, then waited for them to join him. The two BAU members, just as sensitive as Rossi and Hotch had been of how much Reid would hate them in his apartment, virtually tiptoed towards Rossi. Prentiss opened her mouth to speak to Hotch, but when he turned to briefly face the small group, she saw the look on his face, which all three could easily interpret as 'if you come near me I won't be held accountable for my actions', causing the words to die in her throat, so she turned back to face Rossi.

Derek, fighting his own brain which wanted to insist that he was standing in Reid's apartment for the first time in all the years they'd been friends because Reid had probably been abducted by the Unsub they were investigating and was most likely enduring agonizing torture at this very moment, stayed silent, his face impassive, his eyes appearing cold and flat.

What Rossi wanted to say was "Aaron, come over and join your team. Take the lead in this investigation to find our Reid, there's still time, I'm sure of it. It's not their fault that Reid is missing; we don't know yet why he was targeted. We need you, my friend." But the words remained unspoken.

"Okay, so here's what we know for sure. Reid booked a flight to Las Vegas on Saturday, scheduled to fly out early Sunday morning. He called the kid, Robbie Patterson, Saturday evening asking him to feed the fish for an undetermined length of time, stating he was going away for a while."

At that, almost as one, all three turned to gaze at the aquarium, the fish swimming lazily around, unconcerned with nothing more than their next feeding. For some reason, the sight of Reid's pet fish, the beautiful, colourful fish that Reid obviously loved judging by the number of ornaments in the tank including three skeletons, a sunken boat and a castle, suddenly made Prentiss want to weep.

Rossi continued to speak, pulling the attention back to him, "Not long after, Mrs. Patterson, the building manager's wife and Robbie's mother, received a call from an unknown man with a Southern accent…," Morgan rolled his eyes at this because he knew faking an accent was common and the Southern accent was a favourite, " …. claiming to be an old friend of Reid's and wanting his apartment number. The packed case in the front hall, I would say pretty much confirms that Reid had every intention of making his flight. Monday evening, when Robbie came into the apartment to feed the fish, Reid was gone. He's told us that there were no dishes drying on the counter, not even a coffee cup, so we know he wasn't here Sunday morning."

Everyone on the team knew Reid needed his coffee as soon as possible after rising, so Prentiss and Morgan made no objections to Rossi's analysis. "So that's our window, Saturday night to Sunday morning. We need to go through the apartment to establish whether Reid left by his own volition, if he was taken from somewhere outside of his apartment, or if he was taken from inside. As you can see, the living room shows absolutely no signs of struggle or sudden flight; the kid confirmed he hadn't touched anything in this room, or been in any other room but the kitchen."

Rossi's voice had started to lose steam as he spoke, the overwhelming enormity of the situation pushing through his brain, threatening to force him to admit that all of their efforts would probably be futile. Except Rossi knew he had to fight against that admission; he was the only one on the team at the moment who was holding it together enough to keep the team functional. Rossi knew this case was going to leave every one of them in a very vulnerable psychological state no matter what the outcome, even him; making sure none of them folded during the case would take something close to a miracle.

Hotch, who Rossi recognized would soon be in command of himself again, his alpha male ego being too strong not to, would probably waver here and there, like now, removing himself from the group in order to regain his emotional control. But he was unsure just how much the unusual emotional link Hotch seemed to be having with Reid right now would affect his usually strong profiling abilities.

Morgan, another alpha male, was completely closed off right now. Which was probably actually a good thing; Rossi hoped by keeping himself completely mentally sheltered, Morgan would be able to concentrate 100% on the case.

Prentiss, had finally managed to build her own mental walls, but these were thin; Rossi knew she would need additional encouragement along the way, which he was more than happy to provide if it meant she would be 'there' when they needed her.

JJ and Garcia were doing their best, both strong but highly sensitive. Rossi had spoken privately to Kevin Lynch about assisting Garcia with any computer information investigations.

'So, it's up to you David Rossi' he thought to himself, 'You don't get to react until the end, whenever and whatever that may be.'

Taking a deep breath, Rossi said, "Right, so let's get busy. Hotch and I will take the bedroom, Morgan take a closer look through the kitchen, Prentiss check the bathroom and start listening to his phone messages on his land line, maybe the Unsub called him first. Be on the lookout for anything unusual, anything that would be proof he was taken from this location. Then, we'll have to go through his suitcase."

All four turned to gaze at the case on the floor, dreading what would seem like the ultimate violation of Reid's privacy….

As Derek opened the door to the basement room, he was happy to see Reid was standing. From his own experiences with self-punishment, Derek knew the young man was in agony right now, his chest would be burning with pain. But he had made it to his feet, following the rules. Derek, once again, felt the pride for his 'boyfriend' bursting through his chest.

"I've given you some aspirin for the pain."

"Thank you, d...d...darling D...D...D,,,Derek" Reid whispered, struggling to get the words out while his head swam and he fought against fainting.

"When I get back, we have some things to discuss. And have your shirt off."


	34. Chapter 34

**Note: Thanks so much for your reviews; they're all very much appreciated.**

**Chapter 34**

It was if, Rossi thought, a switch had been flipped. As soon as Hotch hit the doorway to Reid's bedroom, and saw the chaos inside, he seemed to undertake an actual physical metamorphosis; Rossi had never seen anything like it.

The Hotch of the last week, and especially the last few days: tight, slightly hunched, dark, emotional, tense, unsure, wrapped in rage; seemed to melt away, or rather Rossi suspected, melt inward, to be replaced by SSA Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU, ready for action. Shoulders squared, face neutral, intense eyes taking in every detail, profiler brain ticking away, voice sure and steady, demeanour of someone completely in control, completely in command.

Hotch himself, could instantly feel the difference. His mind suddenly cleared of all other incidental information, seemed to clearly focus on nothing else except correctly interpreting the scene of the crime and finding the Unsub who'd done it. That wasn't to say that his gut wasn't still filled with knots that seemed to be made of heavy ropes of knife-sharp glass blades which his stomach was continually clenched against, but his mind had broken through the total darkness and despair he'd been experiencing.

He had felt it for a few minutes this morning when he first found out Reid was missing; the information validating what he'd been feeling for over a week. But this, Reid's overturned bedroom, pressed home the fact that Reid had been taken by someone and needed to be rescued. Hotch's newfound control of his brain, did not extend so far that he could even consider that it might be too late; it had to work under the assumption that Reid was being held, which meant he could be found and retrieved.

Only once he was over the threshold of Reid's bedroom, surveying the mess, did Rossi realize he'd been holding his breath, dreading the thought that they might find the room covered in blood. Although they still had to do a thorough investigation of every inch of the room of course, Rossi knew if ANY of the team saw blood, Reid's blood, they would ALL lose their tenuous hold on their self-control. Before they entered Rossi had known they wouldn't find a body, or else Robbie would have made a comment about the smell, but blood had always been at the back of his mind.

"Dave, tell the others to come in here once they're finished with the other rooms; I'll have Garcia go through his phone messages later. It's obvious he wasn't lured away from home: this is the abduction site, so I want everyone in here to construct a profile of the act. And we need to concentrate on discovering how the Unsub got in here in the first place, and how he managed to get Reid out undetected."

Rossi was relieved to hear Hotch sounding, once again, like the leader of the team. He knew Hotch was still worried, still angry and in pain; but if he could manage to maintain this control for a while, Rossi knew it would ease the physical strain on Hotch's body, in addition to subduing the intense mental strain he'd been struggling under.

Moving slowly, staring closely at everything in his path, Hotch circled the bed; he, too, was cognoscente of the fact that he might find blood and what that would mean to the team. He noticed the pillows were missing from the bed, as well as a top cover; the sheets had been removed, crumpled and thrown in the corner. Hotch was pondering why those particular articles would have been taken, speculating it may indicate the Unsub intended to keep Reid for a while, when Prentiss and Rossi joined him in the bedroom.

"Morgan?" Hotch asked, raising his eyebrows in question, but Rossi just shook his head, so Hotch let it drop, for now.

Prentiss glanced quickly at the bed; Rossi had told her just now, to try and forget it was Reid's bedroom, otherwise it might seem too intrusive for her to thoroughly search such a personal, intimate space. Standing absolutely still for a moment, Prentiss closed her eyes while she silently apologized to Reid for being in his room, for touching his things, for invading his privacy.

Taking a deep breath, she started looking around at the mess of the room; she immediately thought it resembled a tangible sign of anger, like someone in a high rage had torn through it, emptying drawers, overturning furniture, throwing objects, smashing pictures, or in Reid's case from what she could see on the floor, diplomas. It spoke of an out-of control, chaotic mind; yet the same man managed to get into an FBI agent's apartment, subdue him somehow and leave with him, which would have taken planning and complete self-control.

"What the hell happened in here?" Prentiss whispered, almost to herself, then using a stronger tone asked, "Was the Unsub struggling with him?"

"I think we can all agree that Reid was most likely taken from his bed. Why the pillow and cover were taken, has to remain unknown for now." Rossi's voice was quiet, as he mulled the evidence over in his mind while he spoke.

Walking to an upturned wooden chair, he stared at the clothes beneath it. "He had laid out his clothes, ready for his early flight. He'd placed his packed suitcase at the door, knowing he'd be in a rush Sunday morning."

Rossi went silent as he tried to picture the sequence of events in his mind. However, it quickly became too painful imagining Reid going about his business getting ready to visit his mother in Las Vegas. Hotch's voice cut through his contemplation.

"I think once we can establish points of entry and exit, it might give us a clearer picture of what happened, and who we're dealing with. There's only one door to this apartment, but it hasn't been damaged. We know Reid wouldn't have opened his door to a stranger, especially at night. He had a working security alarm system that, knowing Reid, we can agree he would have set every night." Hotch had insisted on each member of his team installing the latest alarm system available after he was ambushed by Foyet in his home.

"Even if the Unsub did manage to get through the front door, how would he be able to get out without attracting notice? Even if he used something to subdue…," Prentiss's voice trailed off for a moment, before she took a small breath and resumed speaking "..such as a gun or a knife, somebody should have seen him, wouldn't they?" Prentiss asked, a hint of desperation deepening her voice, her newly erected mental walls starting to become battered with the constant pounding thought that poor, sweet Reid had been attacked and taken from his own bed.

"He could of led Reid out and not been seen. It would've been late, the street might have been deserted, possibly no one from the building was around. The Unsub would definitely have had a car or some means of transport." As Hotch spoke, his mind kept turning the facts over, twisting them this way and that, trying to create the most likely scenario.

"But the questions remain, how did he get in? And why was Reid targeted?"

"I can answer your first question." Morgan's voice was low, the torment he was feeling laid bare for all to hear….

As he sat in the chair, staring at his 'boyfriend', Derek smiled slowly, like the cat that got the cream. The adorable specimen before him was magnificent, from his shiny, wavy hair, to his feet covered in odd colour socks.

When Derek had first discovered that his 'Mr. Right' wore socks of different colours, he first felt a flash of anger, thinking this affectation somehow diminished the young man's perfectness. But then he had talked himself into believing that it was actually kind of cute, mismatched socks; ever since he'd laid an unconscious Reid down in his this basement room, Derek himself had taken to wearing the same. In fact, when he'd given Reid clothes to wear, he'd made sure to include only one sock of each design.

"You look absolutely beautiful!" Derek complimented Reid, taking stock of the myriad of colourful wounds and bruises covering Reid's face and body. Derek was extremely pleased, it made this tasty morsel that much more appealing; in fact he was awash with lust at the moment, just from gazing at the injuries.

Knowing full well what was expected at that comment, Reid mumbled out a thank you darling Derek, all the while willing himself to stand up straight, eyes ahead, no wavering, no trembling. His chest was paining him tremendously, but he was trying not to let it reflect on his face; he knew any signs of weakness would enhance the control his captor had over him.

But he couldn't control his eyes, and they told the truth; they were wide, bright with pain, and fear.

Derek admired his 'boyfriend's' show of self-control. 'No whining for my Mr. Perfect' Derek thought, as he slowly tipped the chair back and forth a bit, making Reid wait to find out what Derek had in store for him this time.

"What does Hotch mean?" The question was fired at him suddenly, Derek eyes intense as he scrutinized Reid's face for any telltale signs he was lying when he answered.

But Reid, knowing full well he was being videoed in the room, had been prepared for this question ever since he woke himself up calling Hotch's name.

"It's the Ukrainian word for Grandfather" he answered easily, hoping his captor wasn't familiar with the language.

Derek accepted the answer, smiled again and asked deceptively softly, "Who do you belong to?"

Reid stayed silent, although his mind screamed 'NO ONE'

As swift as a predator on the hunt, Derek had reached Reid's side, grasped his hair painfully in his huge fist, and smacked him across the face twice. Then shaking him violently by the hair, he asked again in the same quiet voice "Who do you belong to?"

"Y..you, d..d..darling D..D..D.. Derek" Reid could barely gasp out the vile words as his head was shaken to and fro.

Appearing completely calm, Derek resumed his seat, his heart racing from the joy of pulling Reid's hair, his body tingling from being so near the body he lusted for.

Taking out his camera, Derek crooked his finger and beckoned Reid to come closer to him. With increasing trepidation, Reid forced himself to walk over to the large man, stopping a mere foot away. Derek spent the next few minutes taking close up pictures of Reid's chest, his bruised nipples and the red finger marks on his throat. Derek would have loved to take a picture of Reid's beautiful black eye, but he couldn't take the chance someone would recognize him.

"Kneel down"

Reid went to the floor stiffly, his body aching from the beatings he had endured.

"Take my sock off, but don't touch me. Or else."

Trying desperately to control the slight tremors in his hands, Reid carefully slipped Derek's sock down, his breathing becoming a little heavy due to the tension.

"Look up "

Reid raised his large, brown eyes upwards, looking every bit like a wounded puppy. Derek, seeing the infinitesimal tremble of Reid's full lips, had to really struggle to prevent himself from pouncing on him.

"I love you so much" he said with a smile, "Now you say it."

"Thank y..you, d..d..darling D…D…D…, I.. I.." Reid couldn't complete the sentence, his entire body had ceased up on him with revulsion at the look he'd seen in Derek's eyes. Reid's internal battle prevented him from uttering the impossible.

Not waiting for Reid to finish, Derek, feeling benevolent, decided to give him a pass on the necessary punishment for breaking a rule, and continued on with his plan.

"Kiss my foot."

Derek knew this was one good way to show dominance over another human being; he had often made his old boyfriends do the same.

Reid blanched, a look of confusion on his face. He closed his eyes as he slowly lowered his head down to the floor and let his mouth touch, for the briefest moment, his captor's bare foot. Humiliated, Reid nearly cried out in shame as he heard the click of Derek's camera.

The reaction for Derek was swift; his body already in heat for his new toy, now flared white hot at the merest touch of the soft lips. Knowing he was moving into dangerous territory, but wanting to further humiliate Reid, Derek sucked in a deep breath to try and quell his rising desire.

"Now lick the sole" he directed as he lifted his leg and thrust his foot into Reid's face.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

The first time Morgan ever laid eyes on Dr. Spencer Reid, he thought someone was playing a joke on him. Knowing Morgan wanted to eventually train the new cadets on a regular basis in combat/defence techniques, the head of that department regularly called on him to assist in the larger classes.

Morgan, successful high school jock, tough Chicago ex-cop, muscular gym rat, loved putting the younger men and women through their paces. In his mind, it was absolutely imperative that an agent in a position to be out in the field, must at all times be able to defend themselves without a gun; if you couldn't be fairly guaranteed a win in a fight, then you belonged behind a desk.

Since joining the BAU, Morgan's views had only relaxed a tad. That the team relied mainly on intelligence, and instinct was an absolute; but a physical element still existed (the truth of this argument would be borne out a few months later when Morgan made a leap between two buildings while chasing an Unsub.)

So, his first impression upon seeing a tall, painfully thin, awkward white kid who, besides the fact that he looked like a strong wind would knock him flat, appeared to be young enough to still be sitting in a high school classroom, was that the trainer was pulling a prank. 'No way could that guy have passed the physical requirements to join the Academy to become an FBI cadet' he thought to himself, as he turned towards the trainer, expecting to see him hiding a smile.

Instead he heard the man say, "See that guy over there? You'll mainly be working with him today. He's supposedly some kind of genius, a protégée of Gideon's. He, apparently, is not required to actually pass any of the physical challenges, but we're supposed to do what we can with him." Then the trainer shrugged, as if in apology for having to foist this wimp on Morgan.

Morgan scowled. Big brains didn't impress him in the least. If this kid thought just because he was super smart he'd be able to lord it over everyone else in the Bureau, he was in for a rude awakening. Morgan smirked, 'Kid's not going to be able to move by the time I'm through with him' he thought.

Walking up to the skinny, young man, Morgan introduced himself, prepared with an insulting retort if the kid seemed to be in anyway condescending towards him. But, instead, Reid had shyly ducked his head as he told Morgan his name. He didn't shake Morgan's hand; in fact he took a few steps back from him. Morgan, unsure how to interpret this behaviour, decided to keep his profiling skills highly attuned, intending to have the kid figured out by the end of the day.

Morgan shook his head a bit, as the memories of that first day flooded back while he stood in Reid's apartment. That was nearly eight years ago, and not only was the skinny, white kid one of his closest friends, Morgan still hadn't figured him out, not completely. 'Now you may never get the chance' was the thought that instantly materialized, but Morgan quickly subdued it, slamming yet another intellectual cement wall down in his brain.

When Rossi had come to tell them that Hotch figured the bedroom was the point of abduction, Prentiss had gone with him, but Morgan had ignored the request. It was bad enough they, along with the lab techs, were tromping all through Reid's home, invading his personal space; there was no way Morgan could make himself move into Reid's bedroom, a person's ultimate place of privacy. Living rooms, kitchens, bathrooms; these were communal places of a home, shared by others. But your bedroom, this was a place only people you wanted to be there would go; and Morgan knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that Reid would not want ANY of them in his bedroom. So Morgan would not, could not, go there.

Letting himself slide once again down memory lane, Morgan remembered the very first exercise the group had been asked to do. One person would make a dash towards the other, a fist raised for a blow; the other person had to block the move, and subdue the attacker if they could. Nearly everyone there could prevent the fist from hitting them; a few knew how to also control the attacker. But not Reid.

Morgan had run towards him, fist raised, scowl on his face, and Reid had just stood there, riveted to the floor, eyes widening with real fear, his complete vulnerability shining through, along with something else that Morgan could not identify. It was this combination of emotions that had stayed Morgan's hand, had actually stopped him in his tracks. For the rest of the session, he'd been at Reid's side, helping him to learn the merest basics; still unsure what it was he'd seen in Reid's eyes.

Once Reid graduated and joined the BAU, Morgan had taken him under his wing immediately. From the first day, Reid's sensitivity, vulnerability, and naiveté created a 'big brother, little brother' bond with Morgan that had never been broken. Until now. When Reid needed him the most! Morgan, once again, mentally slammed another wall in place, suppressing his guilt and pain.

"I have to figure out how he got into this apartment" Morgan said quietly to himself. He wanted to be the one who discovered the answer; he NEEDED it to be him...

Reid stared at the sole of his captor's foot, aware that if he didn't do what was asked he would be severely punished, but having no idea how to make himself do it. Fighting desperately not to vomit, Reid opened his mouth, but immediately closed it again. Shaking his head, Reid shifted his head slightly so he could see Derek's face.

Derek's smile shook Reid to the core.

"If you don't lick my foot, you'll be strapped down with a special mask I created and made to lick me in another, more interesting, place."

Derek planned to use the mask eventually, of course, but had no qualms about bringing it out at this early juncture. In fact, now that he was talking about it, Derek wished he had used it today; his body was beginning to actually ache with lust for the handsome young man, and thinking of things he could do with him once he was in the mask made Derek's mouth start to water.

Shame filled Reid as he once again opened his mouth. Humiliated at what he was going to do, Reid stuck out his tongue as far as it would possibly go in order to put as much distance as he could between his face and the foot. With tears of disgust prickling the sides of his eyes, Reid touched the barest hint of the tip of his tongue to Derek's flesh. Moving quickly, he ran it up from heel to toes. A tiny sob escaped as Reid realized he was afraid to pull his tongue back into his mouth; the mere thought of it nauseated him.

Moments later he was sprawled on the floor, his mouth bloody from where his teeth had snapped against his extended tongue when Derek viciously kicked him in the chest. Even the throbbing pain of his whip marks, one of which had started to ooze again, couldn't override the feeling of horror that Reid felt about his tongue, his contaminated tongue, now touching the soft tissues of his mouth.

"Get up"

Derek voice sounded choked. Waves upon waves of intense desire had descended upon him when his 'Mr. Right' had licked his foot. That it had been done so reluctantly made it all the sweeter. Derek was panting heavily now, unsure if he should continue with his game plan. Gripping the sides of the chair, Derek let Reid stand in silence for a few minutes as he battled his physical urges. Luckily, Derek's mind was still on board with the original plan, and still in command enough not to let his baser needs move to the fore.

Once his breathing levelled out a bit, Derek pondered for a moment if he should finish this later. Gazing at his 'boyfriend's' slim torso, he decided to forge ahead, confident in his ability to maintain his equilibrium.

"Touch yourself." Derek whispered, his eyes glowing in anticipation.

Reid didn't move, he couldn't. Confused, he was afraid to ask his captor where. The tears that had been teasing the corners of his eyes finally made their way slowly down his pale cheeks. Derek watched his new possession's eyes get impossibly wide, the raw emotion in them, heartbreaking to see for any of his teammates, only causing Derek to shift in his chair as his body began to crave satisfaction.

Derek ripped open his own shirt, buttons flying everywhere, as he instructed, "Make yours hard" while pointing to his own nipples.

Reid's mind had had enough. It urged Reid to leave, to let it hide him in the deep darkness it could provide, away from all the pain, the hurt. But Reid still resisted, afraid that if he did let himself sink into the blessed oblivion, it might end up permanent. Taking shallow breaths as he tried to control his surging stomach, Reid slowly moved his trembling hands up to his chest...

To the average person, Reid's door gave no sign that it had been breached. The assumption would logically have to be that, due to the lack of damage to the door or the doorframe, unless someone had picked the locks, which due to the complexity of these wasn't a viable answer, the door must have been opened to the Unsub from the inside.

But Morgan wasn't an average person. He was someone who purchased dilapidated properties that he renovated in his spare time. To save costs, he'd taught himself most of the relevant construction aspects, all except complex plumbing and electrical; so when he examined the apartment door, he did so with quite a different perspective.

At first glance, all seemed usual. Even at second glance, the door and doorframe refused to give up its clues. It was only when Morgan got onto his hands and knees, his hands slowly passing over each inch of the wood, his eyes mere inches from the frame, that he finally discovered something. The receiving plate for one of the locks had a hairs width band of lighter wood on the side of it. Squinting, Morgan nearly pressed his nose against the wall as he traced the line with his fingertip.

"This guy is a professional" he muttered, knowing how meticulous the Unsub had to have been to have been able to replace the locks in the exactly the same spots they were removed from. The contrasting colour of the wood was proof that this section had been covered up until very recently; only wood unexposed to the environment and people would retain its original pale colour. Luckily Reid's apartment building was extremely old, so the rest of the wood now had a dark patina.

But he had made one mistake. Probably in a hurry to leave with Reid, he had missed his mark by a mere whisper; but that was all Morgan needed to decipher at least part of the mystery of Reid's abduction. The Unsub had removed the locks and entered the apartment secretly. How he managed to know which locks Reid would have, or how he got Reid out of the apartment without detection remained questions to be answered.

Morgan stood up slowly, his mind racing. As he walked towards the bedroom to tell the others of his discovery, he still would not step a foot into it, Morgan began silently listing the number of professions their Unsub might work in that would require that skill...

It seemed to Reid that he'd been abusing himself for hours. Silent tears now streamed down his face as he followed the instructions Derek was calling out, his voice getting evermore ragged with tension.

"Pinch. Pinch harder"

"Pull. More, more" Reid saw Derek aim his camera and cringed.

"Rub them, faster. I said faster!"

"Flick them, with your tips." Reid watched in horror as Derek reached up to mirror Reid's movements with his own nipples, grunting with pleasure.

"Pinch and pull. Now, scrape them with your nails. Do it!"

This move was the one that undid Derek. Reid's poor sensitive flesh, which had already been previously tortured by Derek, finally cracked and started to slightly bleed. As Reid kept rubbing, stinging pain now added to the rest, Derek stared at the blood, the faintest whiff of it seeming to galvanize his body's strained urges. With shaking hands, Derek rapidly snapped picture after picture, whispering to himself, "Oh they'll love these. He'll think these are the best ones yet."

Then Derek's mind broke.

Flying to Reid's side, he instantly had Reid's wrists grasped in his left hand and pulled behind his back. With Reid's back pressed against Derek's chest, he began to slide his flat hand straight down Reid's smooth torso; soon slipping it underneath the waistband of Reid's pants.

With his lust blood rushing through him, his ears filled with its pounding refrain, Derek couldn't hear Reid's soft pleas, "No, oh no. Please don't. Please. Please don't. No, no, please, no..."


	36. Chapter 36

**NOTE: My apologies for the delay in posting; I'm navigating an unexpected, extremely bumpy patch of 'real life' right now. I appreciate your patience.**

**Chapter 36**

Darkness.

Usually the complete absence of light disturbed Reid, scared him. Which is why the feeling of calm, coupled with immense relief, he now felt as the soft, silent darkness wrapped around him like a security blanket, also contained a tiny speck of uncertainty.

Reid's mind had just a moment to form the thought 'See, I told you this was better', before his brain suddenly swamped him with images of the basement room, flooded him with pain from the torture and mental torment he was enduring, and let him become aware of the sound of ringing.

'No, wait, stay' his mind shrieked at Reid, as he opened his eyes to find himself still pressed against his captor, whose hand was now completely past the waistband of his pants, and half-way into his cotton briefs. Horrified, Reid realized the man's fingertips were about one second away from reaching his most private body part, when he also became aware of the fact that the man's hand was still. Before his brain could fully process what was happening, Reid once again heard the ringing sound.

The doorbell was what saved him.

When Derek had been enjoying a previous boyfriend down in the basement rooms, the soundproofing had made him miss answering his door when a courier company came to deliver some computer hardware he'd ordered. Unfortunately, the rules around answering doors, and phones, were extremely strict. As were the punishments. Once his self-inflicted injuries had healed sufficiently, Derek had immediately gone out and bought what he needed to install speakers in each basement room that would let him hear his doorbell, or his land line phone. His cell phone he always kept in his pocket.

Luckily, Derek's brain was so attuned to listen for the sound, that when the doorbell rang this time, even though his mind had completely broken from his conscious regulation, his brain threaded through and stopped his hand from reaching the point of no return; stopped Derek from reaching the point when his brain could no longer access the solid darkness of his mind to reel him back under control.

"SHIT" Derek shouted into Reid's ear, leaving it ringing.

As quickly as he'd reached Reid's side, Derek pulled his hand back out of Reid's pants, digging his nails painfully into Reid's soft skin at the same time, then flung him away and raced towards the door. As the ringing continued, Derek wrenched the door open, flinging the ominous words "We'll finish this later" over his shoulder, and stormed up the stairs.

Reid lay on the floor where he'd landed, his ear still ringing, his chest almost beyond pain now, his nipples so sore he knew there must be some kind of permanent tissue damage. Gulping down the sobs that threatened to erupt, his breathing still erratic, Reid felt completely paralyzed; unable to move, unable to think, unable stop his mind from repeating, 'Why? Why didn't you stay in the silence?'….

Rossi laid his head back against the headrest of the SUV, closed his eyes, and realized he felt very, very old. Behind him in the backseat was Reid's suitcase; in the end it had been impossible to examine it in Reid's home, so the team would go through it in the impersonal atmosphere of Quantico. Hotch had decided the whole investigation would be moved there, now that an FBI agent was involved.

Morgan's explanation on how the Unsub had entered Reid's apartment was sound. It was the only answer that fit into their theory of stranger abduction. Rossi had congratulated Morgan on his good work, even though he knew Morgan was too angry right now to accept it. Hotch had stayed silent while the others hashed out how it may have gone down.

"If the Unsub was able to quickly remove the locks, and disable the alarm, does that mean he was in the apartment previously? Does it indicate a current tenant of the building is the kidnapper? Does our serial killer just happen to be neighbours with an FBI agent, and why pick Reid as a victim? And how was he removed?" Hotch questioned the group, "It's getting late. Once we finish up here tonight, we'll regroup early tomorrow to go over all of the evidence so far, including from each of the crime scenes."

Putting his hand up to stop Morgan from speaking, knowing he would protest not racing immediately back to Quantico, Hotch continued, "Time is of the essence, but rest is equally essential for optimum mental capabilities. We don't all have brains like..." He left the rest unsaid but they all knew who he meant.

Rossi had been glad Hotch wanted the group to get some rest. They had only just finished up a difficult case in Atlanta, and they couldn't afford to make any mistakes with this one. As Rossi had thought earlier, if Reid was already dead, a few more hours wouldn't make any difference; if he was still alive, he would need his teammates at their best to figure out where he was. Rossi's mind tried to turn towards the crime scene photos from the last murder victim, tried to make him imagine Reid's thin body covered with the same brutal wounds, but Rossi had too much prior experience with evil to allow it. Over the years he'd managed to develop enough mental gymnastics to keep even the worst images at bay; he wouldn't be able to function effectively in his job otherwise. He hoped the others would be able to block out enough to continue with the case, everyone's input would definitely be required to unravel this organized killer's extremely well-developed game plan.

Now, Rossi was waiting in the SUV for Hotch to finish speaking to Detective Green. Hotch was making arrangements for every tenant in the building to be questioned, as well as Mrs. Freeman and her husband, who had still not showed up. On the surface, this looked extremely suspicious, and one of their theories was that the killer lived in the building; but Rossi didn't think he was a legitimate suspect. From what he had seen of the man when Rossi first came to Reid's apartment, he didn't think he had the intelligence to plan and execute this abduction, never mind the other murders.

Hotch was also making arrangements for he and Rossi to come back tomorrow to question Robbie. The kid, funny enough, was the closest person to Reid in his private life and probably knew more than he was aware of. Besides, Hotch had posted a 24 hour guard over Reid's apartment, as he wanted the team to go back through it once they were a little more mentally prepared, and he wanted to make sure Robbie was introduced to the officer that would be on duty when he went in each day to feed the fish. It was Rossi who convinced Hotch to let Robbie continue with this chore; he didn't see why Reid's fish shouldn't be taken care of until his prayed for return, and since the boy had been going into the apartment all along, Rossi couldn't see why it should have to change as long as he didn't touch anything. The crime scene investigators had been through the place with a fine tooth comb, taking samples, prints and pictures; Robbie wouldn't change the outcome of any of their findings.

"The husband's been located" Hotch said as he entered the SUV, "Green's having him brought down to the station. He's supposedly drunk, so Green's going to see if he can get anything out of him, then throw him into the drunk tank and requestion him tomorrow. I'm going to send Prentiss down to monitor the session, ask some questions."

Both men were silent for a moment, both thinking the same thing; normally it would be Morgan sent to question the man, but they couldn't risk him losing his temper if he at all suspected the guy had anything to do with Reid's disappearance. Rossi made a mental note to speak to Prentiss about what sort of information she would need to dig for.

"There are just so many questions, Dave." Hotch's voice echoed the anguish he felt; the overwhelmingly strong, acidic emotion he'd been bottling up all evening.

Rossi stayed silent as Hotch pressed one arm against his gut while he laid his head against the other lying across the top of the steering wheel. For a few minutes all that was heard in the SUV was Hotch's deep, ragged breathing as he struggled to contain his anger, his frustration, and his tears. Then Rossi gently laid a hand on Hotch's leg for a moment in a show of silent support, while he once again said calmly, "We'll figure it out, Aaron. He won't win."...

It was a memory from years back that finally penetrated the screaming chant in Reid's head. The team had been in an Unsub's bedroom, trying to figure out his computer password. Unfortunately it was set up so that after a certain number of unsuccessful tries, the hard drive would be wiped out. Gideon recited a quote to Morgan, 'Try, fail, try better'; Morgan had immediately responded with his own quote 'Try not, do or do not.' Reid had pondered afterwards, which of these was right. Of course, the second was from a movie, Star Wars, so had only been created by the screenwriter; but Reid had found over the years that sometimes it actually made some sense.

But why had his brain decided to retrieve that memory? Reid struggled to quiet his roaring mind, his intellectual curiosity beginning once again to assert itself. Reid remembered the self he had been back then; before Hankel, before drugs, before deadly illness, before enormous physical pain, before emotions. His work colleagues had still been just that, had not yet evolved into the close friends they became, had not yet dragged his small, scared, deeply buried emotional side forward.

Suddenly he realized what his brain was trying to tell him. He had to decide which quote he was going to follow; he was at turning point now, he either had to keep trying to stay awake and escape, or he had to stop trying and let himself "do not", let himself admit defeat and sink into the oblivion.

Slowly Reid got on his knees and crawled towards the cot, each movement leaving him in complete agony. Before retreating into the warm embrace of his comforter, he slipped off his soaked pants and underwear, the ammonia causing the scratches on his lower abdomen to sting. Naked, keeping his eyes focused on his nightlight, Reid let his mind fully concentrate on deciding which way to go, as he unconsciously slipped his thumb into his mouth.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

_He could see Reid standing at the bottom of the well, eyes wide with fear, silently begging for help._

_Morgan reached down, gripping the edge to prevent himself from joining his trapped colleague, not even feeling the jagged stone digging into his palm, leaving what would eventually be permanent reminders of his failure._

_Muscles straining, sweat beginning to stream down his face, Morgan stretched his arm as far as humanly possible, then pushed it down even farther._

_Reid, standing on tip toe, reaching up with his slender fingers, desperately trying to grasp Morgan's hand._

_Fingertips touched. _

_A jolt of electricity shot straight up through Morgan's body, his brain urged his body to force itself down the well just a few inches more. _

_Then the ground crumbled beneath Reid's feet and Morgan watched in utter despair as his friend disappeared into the unpenetratable darkness, his scream of fear echoing painfully inside of Morgan's head..._

Clooney's whine pulled Morgan back to consciousness. He lay still for a moment, his breath coming in short, shallow pants, his body still tensed, struggling with fear at the memory of Reid completely disappearing from his sight, his fingertips still tingling as if he had really touched Reid's.

The solid mental walls Morgan had so carefully constructed ever since they had found out Reid was missing, were no thicker than tissue paper once he was asleep. The subconscious mind would not be denied.

Clooney snuffled his wet nose against Morgan's arm, all of his dogs' sense on alert that something was wrong with his master. Morgan reached over to pat his head, the feel of his soft fur helping to calm Morgan, who was thankful he was not alone during this long, tortuous night. Clooney whined again, putting one paw on the edge of the bed. Normally, Morgan didn't allow the dog on the bed, but he decided to relent for tonight.

"Okay Cloone, get up here." Morgan said, patting the mattress behind his back.

Clooney wasted no time in hopping up and lying beside his beloved master, pressing himself into Morgan's back, providing more comfort than he would ever know. Feeling the dog's warm body against him, Morgan began to relax his breathing, quiet his thoughts, settle his tensed muscles again.

Until he closed his eyes, and immediately saw Reid's wide hazel eyes staring out at him from a pale, immobile face; a dead face.

Morgan's eyes snapped open, a wave of panic washing over him as his brain emphatically insisted that the BAU were too late, Morgan was too late. Reid had been taken Saturday night, more than enough time had lapsed for the Unsub to have inflicted the same wounds to his body that were in the pictures of the other victims. 'How could Reid survive that level of torture and torment? You left him defenceless' Morgan thought, in total agreement with his brain.

Sitting up to punch his pillow, Morgan forced himself to say "We'll find you Reid", as he once again flopped his head back down, closed his eyes, and tried to fall asleep; all the while telling himself that there was still time, Morgan could still save his 'little brother.'

Thirty minutes later, self-recriminations still running through his head, Morgan clipped Clooney's leash onto his collar. 'Maybe a short run will help' he thought as a blast of cold air smacked him in the face as he opened his door. Taking off at a quick pace, Morgan jogged his familiar route, hoping the burst of exercise would burn off the abundance of nervous energy that needed an outlet, would help clear his head enough to let him find some answers to the questions about Reid's abduction that the team would be discussing in a few hours; all the while knowing that the spiked ache currently devouring his heart, his soul, would not be quelled until Reid was found, safe, alive...

Watching the computer screen he had positioned so that he could see it from his couch, Derek Danger smiled as he watched his 'boyfriend.' Currently reclining against numerous pillows while he recovered from his self-inflicted punishment, Derek let his mind wander back to the recent activities of the basement room, the memory making his smile broaden.

He knew he had breached permissible boundaries as soon as he had grasped his 'Mr. Right' by his thin wrists, but his mind had broken by then. 'You'll pay for this' was the last rational thought that had come through before the thick, inky darkness had blanketed his brain, letting through only the senses of touch, smell, taste. It had been pure instinct that had caused his hand to travel down the length of the handsome young man's torso towards nirvana. The feel of cotton against the back of his hand had only increased his desire, as his fingers transmitted the sensual feel of his 'boyfriends' soft, smooth skin; and his olfactory glands had nearly overloaded him with the delicious smell of fear.

Luckily for both of them, Derek had only had time for a small lick of his toy's neck. Just that one taste nearly prevented him from heeding the doorbell when it rang an instant later.

Nearly.

But some part of Derek's brain had obviously stayed on alert, because the ringing bell had penetrated through, and he had still been retrievable.

Unfortunately, his meticulously maintained facade for the outside world that he usually had firmly in place when dealing with anyone outside of him home had been missing; his mind still in pieces when he'd flung open his front door, his eyes burning wildly, his mouth twisted in a snarl, his rage seeming to cause the very cells of his skin to pulse, raw fury at being interrupted radiating off of him in waves.

The poor elderly woman who was asking her neighbours to keep an eye out for her missing cat, recoiled instantly, crossing herself before fleeing down the path. The memory of Derek's countenance would cause her endless sleeplessness nights.

Once he'd recovered himself completely, Derek realized he'd had a very close call. The fear he'd had since the beginning, that this new one would prove to be too dangerous for him, seemed to be coming true. He had never had to punish himself so often and so soon, after bringing a new boyfriend home. 'Maybe the best plan would be to finish him off now' Derek had contemplated as he sharpened his pocket knife.

Now, as he waited for the painkillers to kick in, Derek realized it was all worth it. The enormous amount of pleasure he got from the man currently in his basement, even from just the little exposure he'd had with him, more than made up for any punishment he could inflict on himself. Derek would just have to try harder, would have to devise some way he could play with 'Mr. Perfect' and not dissolve into unmanageable behaviour.

Derek gazed at the screen; seeing his 'boyfriend' wrapped up in his comforter, staring with wide, unmoving eyes towards the nightlight, made Derek's love for beautiful boy fill his heart. And the absolutely adorable sight of his 'boyfriend's' thumb in his mouth, was causing Derek's body to once again respond, lust overcoming pain. Wishing he had 'Mr. Perfect's' thumb in his own mouth, Derek's hand began to travel down his own torso, mimicking his actions of earlier...

The doubts Hotch had had earlier in the evening, intensified as he lay in bed pretending to try and sleep. When he had told Rossi his plan for letting Robbie continue to go into Reid's apartment to feed the fish, Hotch had been convinced it was a good plan. He had such a strong feeling that Robbie knew more than he'd said, and Hotch wanted to question him when he'd be at his most relaxed. Rossi, of course, had pointed out that it was a completely unprecedented move, allowing a civilian to enter a crime scene, besides being a golden opportunity for Strauss to finally get rid of Hotch if she ever found out.

But Hotch didn't care. He was already having doubts about staying with the FBI if they didn't find Reid until...

Cutting the thought off, Hotch rolled onto his back, going over once again the questions he intended to put to Robbie the next day when he and Rossi joined him at the apartment. His mind whirled from one to the other, completely abandoning the ordered thought processes Hotch had diligently adhered to ever since he'd left adolescence behind.

Becoming increasingly frustrated, Hotch opened his bedside drawer, reaching for the prescription bottle inside that he hadn't had to use since Hailey and Jack had gone into protective custody what seemed like forever ago. He had nearly finished the bottle in the aftermath of Hailey's murder, but managed to not become reliant on them. Now, though, he was grateful for their presence, knowing if he didn't soon get some serious sleep, something which had been eluding him for over a week, he would never be able to get this case solved...

"_Mom?"_

"_Yes, Spencer?"_

"_I've been in the dark."_

"_I know, Baby."_

"_It was nice, Mom. Peaceful, safe. I might go back. Just stay for a while."_

"_The dark is never just for a while, Spencer."_

Reid was completely still; his shallow breathing barely caused his chest to rise and fall beneath his comforter. His eyes stared unseeing at his nightlight, but his brain registered a small modicum of reassurance from its familiar glow. His mouth moved reflexively around his thumb, a soothing action that he was totally unaware he was performing.

And his mind, once again, wavered.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

Memories of the time she and Reid had been held captive at the religious compound flooded Prentiss's mind as she sat in her car, staring into the past. She had believed she was living through her worst nightmare, but it was nothing compared to this.

Even worse than the beating she took at the hands of the leader of the cult, Benjamin Cyrus, was the emotional jolt she'd experienced as she watched him point a gun into Reid's face and state that what happened would be God's will. It was the second time she'd seen this, the first being on the computer screen as Tobias Hankle made the same move, spoke the same words. Although she'd felt bad the first time, it had been tempered by the fact that it was on a screen, and she'd barely known Reid at that point, having just recently joined the BAU.

But in the compound, seeing Reid being threatened in person; the sweet, innocent Reid, who she'd grown to love like family in her own private way, had been overwhelmingly terrifying. By that time she had absorbed the unspoken sentiment of the entire BAU team, 'protect Reid'. Which was why she had willingly offered herself up as the FBI agent, knowing she would be punished for it, but also knowing she would be saving Reid from suffering through another experience bad enough to send him straight back to his Dilaudid addiction.

The Quantico security guard walked past Prentiss's car for the fourth time in an hour. Noting the wide eyed stare, he made a mental note to himself that if she was still there the next time he passed through the parking garage, he was going to find out what was going on. He knew she worked in the BAU; he'd just heard a rumour that was circulating concerning one of the members of that team, something about the tall, skinny one going missing. Hoping he didn't have some kind of mental breakdown on his hands, the guard continued his rounds, and prayed the agent would pull herself together enough to get inside the building...

Derek Danger stared down reflectively at the small circular scar on his forearm. It was the scar he bore from the first time he associated pain with pleasure, and he often contemplated it when trying to resolve a perplexing issue.

Smiling faintly, Danger recalled the morning he'd received the wound. He'd been in fifth grade; a handsome boy, with soft golden curls, and an engaging smile. That he was already in court-ordered therapy should have alerted his teachers to the fact that his angelic look belied his inner core, and this oversight was always to their detriment.

On the day in question, the science teacher set the class up in pairs in order to conduct experiments with weights and measures. Derek had passively observed the girl he had drawn as a partner, Nancy Pecchia, a tomboy with straight dark hair and huge dark eyes. He knew she liked him, all the girls in his class did, they being at that impressionable age where looks were everything, and soft, angelic looks especially appealing. Nancy had giggled a bit as she moved to sit beside the young Derek, then boldly whispered to him, that if he wanted he could give her a kiss.

Derek, lowering his eyelids slightly and peering at the girl through his lashes, stayed quiet for a moment, then returned her offer with a counter offer, suggesting if she wanted to meet him at recess he would do something even better to her. This was a time long before the Internet, or suggestive music videos, so Derek wasn't exactly sure what it was he intended to do, but he had been spying on his parents for years now, and wanted to start discovering for himself why they did what they did.

Shortly after recess ended, Derek was sitting in the principal's office with his arm bandaged roughly, numerous strands of dark hair clinging to his fingers, a small bloodstain on his cheek, and the threats of a lawsuit ringing in his ears by Mr. Pecchia who had come to pick up his daughter. Nancy's screams had prevented him from getting very far with his original idea, he'd never gotten below her collarbone, but Derek had managed to do enough to Nancy to know he definitely needed to try this new 'game' again.

Derek could still feel the special tingle that had raced across his skin during the encounter, like a bolt of electricity had surged through his flesh. At the time, his only complaint had been that it left him undecided whether he'd enjoyed it more when he received the pain of the wound, or when he reciprocated with Nancy. It would be many years of experimentation before Derek decided, although he wasn't averse to being on the receiving end of fun-pain, creating the pain gave him the most intense pleasure. Puberty had brought its own surprises and experiences; complete physical satisfaction now the ultimate goal of every violent amusement.

'Of course,' he thought, 'Discovering boys had resulted in the real bliss; the ultimate desirable pleasure' and grinned almost manically as he remembered THAT first time; which, as coincidence would have it, also resulted in threats of lawsuits.

Gulping down his last bit of breakfast, Derek realized the time had come for at least one decision to be made. Ever since he'd gotten his control back from the incident the day before, Derek had been trying to decide what he could do about maintaining his equilibrium when playing with his new toy. The fun and games had barely started, but the hold the gorgeous morsel in the basement room had over him was incredible. He had never, over all these years of relationships, been so weak; he'd never had such a hard time reining in his physical impulses, not to mention keeping his mind in check. His new acquisition was causing him huge problems.

Derek, unbelievably, was afraid to go downstairs; wary that the next time his most base instincts would reassert themselves and the 'fun' would be over too soon. But Derek knew, just KNEW, he would discover a way to keep his body restrained, at least somewhat, so that he and his 'boyfriend' would still have loads of time to 'play'; and Derek would be able to post numerous pictures of the torture for all of his new cyber-friends to admire and covet.

"Actually, he doesn't deserve his breakfast, the way he treated me yesterday, making me lose control like that. That was definitely against the rules, and he should be punished. He will be punished!" Derek ended with a shout.

Happy at delaying the inevitable until he'd had additional time to plan, Derek went to the computer that showed the live stream of the cot. The young man lay in the exact same position he been in since he crawled up under the comforter hours before, eyes staring, thumb in mouth. Satisfied he wasn't missing any self-pleasure action, which he knew should be coming soon, Derek punched himself in the stomach half a dozen times, punishment for not giving his 'boyfriend' breakfast.

"I love you, handsome. Don't worry, I'll be down to play soon" Derek whispered to the screen, then moved to his work computer, intending to log as many hours as he could today, so as to have enough time the next day to continue instructing his new 'boyfriend'; once he'd resolved his own issue, of course…

Her trembling fingertips brushing for a moment across her lips, JJ could see in her mind's eye, the football stadium where Dr. Spencer Reid had had his first kiss. Nobody on the team knew, they had both agreed to sworn secrecy; but the sweet memory created that afternoon was what made Reid's pain caused by the video they'd made even sharper, deeper, for her. Since the team had discovered Reid was now missing, assumed taken by the sadistic Unsub they were searching for, JJ didn't even have words to describe the agony she felt.

That day, in her kindest, gentlest phrases JJ had conveyed to Reid that although she valued their friendship, she didn't feel in any way 'romantic' about him. Professing to completely understand, JJ had, nonetheless, seen the disappointment in Reid's eyes, the little-boy-hurt look that clenched her heart every time she saw it, which had been far too many over the last few years. And so she'd offered, since the football game had essentially been a date, to let Reid have his end-of-date kiss. Except she soon discovered Reid hadn't a clue; he knew the mechanics, of course, but was so painfully shy and awkward back then that JJ had finally had to take him by the shoulders, to stop his nervous fidgeting, and move her head as close as she could to his.

She would have pressed her lips to Reid's, except by then she'd figured out it was probably his first time, and she wanted Reid to be the one to give her the kiss. Wide hazel eyes, with emotion swirling through them that Reid had no idea was being exposed, gazed down on JJ's face as she waited patiently; after a brief hesitation, Reid slowly lowered his mouth to hers, letting his soft lips linger for what seemed like the briefest instant before he pulled back, blushing violently. It had been an adorable kiss.

Which was now torturing her….


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

**NOTE: A tremendous thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and kind words; they are a very much appreciated positive boost right now. And thanks for your patience with the long delays between posts, my readers are the best!**

Thirst returned Reid to conscious thought.

A memory from childhood started to nibble along the edges of the soft, peaceful darkness Reid's brain had cradled around his tormented mind. It was a bad memory, one of the many Reid had buried deep down, along with all of the memories of his father.

This incident had occurred during one of his mother's more dangerous episodes, just after his father had abandoned the family. During the height of her delusions, Reid found himself lying under the family car, for the shade, in the middle of the Nevada desert, watching his mother kicking the dry sand, while shouting at the imaginary Bob Dylan she thought was taunting her. Reid had been absolutely terrified that she wouldn't get them back home before it was too late; he knew just how long the human body could survive without food and water, in the extreme Nevada heat. By the time he'd finally convinced her to sneak quietly into the car so 'Bob Dylan' wouldn't notice them leaving, his throat was painfully parched, his small stomach cramping from thirst, and fear.

Thirst and fear.

'You really need to get some water.'

The thought rose towards the surface of Reid's dark, penetrated the now ruffled edge, and popped into Reid's consciousness like one of the sparkling bubbles in a glass of champagne.

Blinking a few times, as if awaking from a deep sleep, Reid pulled his now shockingly white, withered thumb out of his mouth and stared at it for a few moments, as if trying to figure out what it was. His mind felt like it was awash with thick, lumpy oatmeal; he couldn't seem to form a thought beyond the original one that kept prodding him along, forcing his hand down from his mouth and his legs over the side of the cot.

Trying to stand, his body screaming in pain with every movement, Reid's brain slowly began to regain control. Sweat beaded across Reid's forehead from the strain, as he slowly unfolded himself and attempted to stand up. His back audibly cracking as he straightened himself to his full height, it only took a moment for his leg muscles to decide they'd had enough and revolt, causing Reid to flop back down onto his comforter.

Pulling a corner of the soft material over his eyes with a slight tremor in his hand, Reid's mind tried desperately to scramble back to peace and safety, but Reid's brain had begun to reenergize and refused to let him go again. 'You're thirsty, you need to stand up and get some water' was the message it conveyed with ever increasing intensity. But Reid's limbs refused to move.

So his brain decided to send out a new thought, 'You are determined to live.'….

Rossi had been dreading it all night. He knew each member of the team would have a negative reaction, but it was unavoidable. As he walked towards Garcia's office, he braced himself for her response. Remembering how hysterical she'd been yesterday when he'd had to inform her about Reid being gone, Rossi steeled himself, knowing this request would certainly be enough to cause the same intense emotional reaction.

A few minutes later Rossi left Garcia feeling overwhelmingly proud of the amazing young woman. Yes, the strong emotions had been there, as expected; but there had also been a tremendous strength which had surprised, and greatly impressed, him.

Almost apologetically Rossi had explained what he needed; almost immediately the tears began. Rossi moved to comfort Garcia, but Kevin, her rock during this ordeal, was instantly at her side, his arm protectively around her shoulders, quietly offering words of support. The outburst only lasted a few moments; then, to Rossi increasing admiration, Garcia blew her nose, patted Kevin's hand, and said, albeit in a watery, filled with tears voice, "Thanks Kevin, I'm okay now. This will just take a minute or two, Rossi."

Rossi watched her work, relieved she was handling his request so well. Tears still dribbled down her face, and she wiped them away impatiently as she typed at her keyboard. When Rossi had first entered the room, he'd noticed Garcia hadn't had any make up on, to be honest he hadn't recognized her for a moment, and now he knew why. Her eyes were violently red-rimmed; Rossi supposed the tears welled up pretty much constantly since the previous day. As she handed him the paper, Garcia took another moment to blow her nose again, before looking straight into Rossi's eyes and saying, "Rossi, my heart is broken, and I'll probably be crying all day, but…" she paused for a moment to take a deep breath, "… I'm ready to do anything I can to help the team find my sweet junior G-man and bring him back home to us!"

Even though another burst of violent sobbing followed this pronouncement, Rossi smiled at Garcia and said, "I always know I can count on you, Penelope." Giving her back a small pat of encouragement, Rossi turned to leave, hoping the rest of team would be in the same mindset.

As he walked slowly along the hall towards the conference room, where he knew the rest of the team was already gathered, Rossi looked down at the paper in his hand, and whispered, "Hang in there kid, we'll find you."

The lean face staring back at him, the most current photo Garcia could find in the system, seemed so still, so silent; completely opposite to the mobile face of the young genius Rossi knew. Rossi prayed the picture wasn't now the more accurate of the two versions…..

Robbie sat at his desk, gnawing on the edge of his thumbnail. The teacher was attempting to teach math to the group of totally uninterested 10 year olds, but Robbie barely heard the chaos around him. His mind was firmly on Mr. Reid's apartment; specifically what may have happened there.

This morning, his mother had informed him to come straight home from school today, as the FBI agents he had talked to yesterday in Mr. Reid's apartment would be there to take him upstairs to feed the fish. Unfortunately, she wouldn't provide any more details as to why he suddenly needed an escort to do this chore; so, inevitably, his overactive young brain had been devising likely scenarios ever since, each one getting ever more fantastic, and gory.

'Well, I never saw any blood' he reasoned to himself as his teacher droned on about equations, 'And if there was a dead body lying in the apartment rotting, the FBI wouldn't let me go in there.' Suddenly his stomach lurched as he realized if there WAS a dead body, it was probably his friend; and the thought of never seeing Mr. Reid again, never having the kind FBI agent to talk to or to discuss things with, unexpectedly produced unwanted tears.

Raising his hand to be excused, while keeping his head lowered so that his friends couldn't see his shame, Robbie raced to the washroom, not caring if he was reported for running in the halls. Detention for the rest of the year was infinitely preferable than the other boys seeing his damp eyes. Locking himself into a stall, Robbie began to try and logic it out just like he knew Mr. Reid would, just like he'd done with every problem Robbie had ever brought to him. Fluttering his hands around, widening his eyes as he talked to himself, cocking his head to one side every now and then, if any of the team could see Robbie pacing in the stall, they would've recognized Reid's mannerisms instantly….

Rossi stood staring at the closed door of the conference room. His stomach in painful knots, he felt a pang of sympathy for Hotch and the ache he'd been having in his gut for over a week. It was the not knowing that was causing Rossi to hesitate, the uncertainty as to what each team members' reaction would be to Reid's picture. 'His 'latest victim' picture' Rossi amended, letting out a sigh, wishing once again, like he'd been doing for the last 24 hours, that he'd never decided to come back to the BAU.

Feeling his own mind beginning to wobble, Rossi straightened his back, reset his face into neutral, opened the door, and swiftly crossed the room to put Reid's face up on the victim board. A deep, full, oppressive silence pressed against his back, refusing to allow him to turn around and gauge the reactions of the team. Rossi could feel four sets of eyes boring holes into his spine, after they'd first flicked over to see what he was doing. Waves of hate seemed to crash into the back of his neck; a younger, less experienced agent may have cringed away from four brains silently slinging curses against his ears; may have buckled under the weight of four souls silently pummelling him, and four hearts shattering on the floor at his feet.

But Rossi stood absolutely still, absorbing the team's anguish and helplessness. He'd known from the start that this was his role during the investigation, and Rossi would not abandon his team, his family. Minutes later, Rossi heard what he was waiting for; the signal that it was safe for him to turn around and take his place at the table; the verbal assurance which he'd been holding his breath waiting for, knowing if he didn't hear it, it was over.

"Okay, let's review…" Hotch said, his voice strong, steady, in control.


End file.
